The Outsider
by Phoenix.G.Fawkes
Summary: Percy always thought of his siblings in pairs: Bill and Charlie, Fred and George, Ron and Ginny, being him the only one left alone. Now he must face his siblings again, Percy thinks he's figured out why he's always been an outsider in his own family
1. Part One: Bill & Charlie

**Thanks to all who left review in the last installment and the previous ones, for your encouragement and good wishes. This goes for you, people!

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**The Outsider**

**Part One: Bill and Charlie**

Percy Weasley had some distinct memories from his childhood: the soothing voice of his mother singing him a lullbaby; the exhausted face of his father, who nevertheless always wished to spend some time with his children; the deliciously tempting smells of the small kitchen; the softness of Scabbers' fur when he'd played with him...

And always, always, being on his own.

As far as he could remember, Percy had always been a lonely boy with only his books and loyal old Scabbers for company. Some people said that it was his pompousness and gravity which drove other children away, but sometimes Percy wondered whether the lack of his peers' company hadn't been what had made him turn to books for company, which in turn had made him to become a quiet, serious and way too pompous boy. Perhaps yes, perhaps not... he would never know.

The reason for young Percy's loneliness was simple and yet, it wasn't. The Weasleys, as the only and rather poor Wizarding family in quite some miles, didn't have much contact with other families with children of Percy's age. On the other hand, his first five years of life were marked by the shadow of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's reign of terror, a time during which Wizarding families kept to themselves and didn't let their children to socialize much.

That shouldn't have been a major problem considering how large the Weasley family was. Surely the children would make each other company just as well.

Alas, that was not the case for Percy. His brothers Bill and Charlie were born with only a one-year-gap between them. That, added to a similarity of characters and tastes, made them to be inseparable. When poor Percy was born, three years later, there already was no way for him to join his brothers in that unique bond.

It is said that in every big family there's a left-out child. In the Weasley family it became clear from the very beginning whose place was that. It wasn't like Bill or Charlie were cruel or uncaring with their little brother, not at all. But they were four and three years older than him respectively, they were much wiser, much stronger and their legs were considerably longer. Percy couldn't keep up with them and he was more of a burden than anything else to his brothers. They teased him and took care of him like anyone would do with a small child, but they rarely included him in their games and when they did, Percy was soon left out by his own unability to follow their lead succesfully.

Percy, finally realising that Bill and Charlie didn't really want him around that much, decided to seek another source of companionship. His mother was as good as any other option he got, but unfortunately she was too busy to play with him since the twins were born. His father, on the other hand, usually got home when Percy was already asleep so he didn't make a good playmate.

In the end, Percy turned to his rat, who would listen to anything he wanted to say, and his books, who would make him company. As a result of this he turned even less sociable than before, becoming harder and harder for him to come out from his shell. At Hogwarts it was no different. The only one he'd made friends with was Oliver, just because the Quidditch Captain was as sociable as he was.

Back to his family, Percy had always thought of his siblings in pairs: Bill and Charlie, Fred and George, Ron and Ginny, being him the only one left alone. Now that he had to face his siblings again after the events of the prior year, Percy thought he'd figured out why he'd always been an outsider in his own family.

Thoughts of family, siblings and lost chances had been swirling in his mind lately, after the encounter and reconciliation with his parents a few days ago. His mother had told him all the news about his brothers and sister, which had piqued Percy's curiosity about them, whereas his father had pointed out that, even though it would be hard for them, they would eventually forgive him. Percy had doubted it. Too many spiteful words had been exchanged, too much had been left unsaid. There was too much resentment, too many hurt feelings, too many doubts. Percy wasn't certain there could be a bridge over an abyss as deep as theirs.

Time, however, can prove us wrong as Percy had found out many times, and in this case only two days had passed until he began seeing things in a different light. It was not because he had thought things over – although he had – and he'd come to the conclussion that his current situation could change all by himself, no. Let's say he received a little help to change his mind, help that arrived on his doorstep in the form of a letter.

A letter from Bill.

Percy had stared at it, dumbfounded. He read and reread the contents, just to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Why would Bill write to him now, after all what had happened between them? Why would he try to reopen dialogue when Percy had made himself fully clear more than once that he wasn't interested in what Bill got to say?

Percy shuddered when he remembered it. Bill had been the only one of his siblings who had tried to talk to him. He had sought for him right after Percy had stormed out the house, before even his mother did. Percy still felt furious at his parents' blindness and hurt for some of the things both parties had said. The full impact of what he had done started to sink in, a part of him not entirely believing it. Had he really walked out on his family? Had he really abandoned the first place he had called home? He had never, in his whole life, contradicted his parents openly, even less had he argued with them. Now he had not only done that, but incredibly hurtful things had been said, things Percy had never thought that were hidden in the depths of his mind and soul. He had always thought highly of his parents although admittedly in the last couple of years he had come to see they were not always correct in their beliefs and actions, which was normal. All children realise their parents weren't perfect once they were grown-up. It was part of life.

But the things, the hateful things Percy had said... Where had they come from? He had never suspected that such insidious feelings were lurking inside him, waiting to come to the surface.

They had, though, which made Percy to feel shocked and disgusted. He still felt self-righteous anger towards his father, who would not believe in his son's talent, preferring to be fooled by preposterous rumours of the Dark Lord's return, but a tiny part of him felt sad, and confused, and homesick. A tiny, tiny part of him began to doubt his actions. Could he be wrong? Was it possible that the Dark Lord...? After all, why would Harry lie? He was a decent child. Percy knew him well. And Dumbledore... Dumbledore was the wisest man alive. Could he be losing his marbles?

If Bill had been smart and prudent, if he had spoken softly and wisely to his younger brother when he sought him, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Perhaps Percy, in spite of his pride, would have been forced to see that Bill's arguments were more reasonable than his. Perhaps he would have been able to see that Fudge, despite being the Minister, wasn't as clever as Dumbledore. Perhaps he would have been able to see the error of his ways and return home...

But Bill was angry, too, and he wasn't thinking clearly when he banged on Percy's door. He was disconcerted at his quiet brother's sudden outburst, angered by it and was not in the mood to be patient with the idiot of Percy, who was gullible enough to swallow Fudge's lies and insult his parents. In his eyes, Percy needed to be shaked a little so his bran began functioning again and did not think that perhaps the only thing his brother needed was a guide.

So when he showed up, instead of trying to listen to Percy first and then reason with him, he scolded him for his behaviour unawarely using the same tone Percy used with Ron when he went looking into a girls' bathroom. Percy hated that tone, although he used it often, as he considered he was too old now to be chastised by his brother or anyone else. There had been a time when anything Bill said was law and accepted as the only truth, but that time had passed a long time ago. Bill had been away for some years now, his influence slowly vanishing, so it annoyed Percy that his brother acted as though he had the right to give him orders. He was a grown-up man now, not the boy who used to follow Bill and Charlie around like a lap dog.

It didn't help that Bill practically called him a git for what he had done to their parents, and a fool for believing Fudge instead of Dumbledore. Although he had been thinking along the same lines, Percy fired up at this. He had always been the most corteous, the most judgemental of all of them. How did Bill dare to insult him?

The conversation hadn't ended on good terms. Bill had slammed the door on his way out, claiming that he wouldn't come when Percy called him asking for help, whereas the youngest Weasley bellowed he had never needed anyone's help and he would never need it. That was the last time he had heard from his eldest brother.

Until today. An envelope on his desk, an envelope with a familiar handwriting scribbled on it. He couldn't believe his eyes at first. He had hesitated a moment before ripping the envelope open. The note was short and straight to the point.

'_I've talked to Dad. Today I'll be at Florean Fortescue's about four. Charlie's going to be there too. Do whatever you think it's best.'_

It didn't sound like a warm invitation. Percy frowned, wondering what did his brother mean by this. It sounded harsh for an attempt at a reconciliation, yet Bill had never been particularly diplomatic. On the other hand, if his brother wanted to insult him face to face, he could have done it a long while ago.

_Do whatever you think it's best_. The problem was deciding what was best, and for whom. The thought of facing his eldest brothers after all this time was painful and scary, too. He didn't know what he could say to amend things, not when he didn't even know whether he would be able to make amends at all. Would they be willing to listen? Would he be willing to swallow his pride and ask for forgiveness?

The coward side of Percy was tempted to let it pass. He was afraid of the outcome of the meeting. However, even when Percy had many faults, being a coward had never been one of them, especially now that he had overcome so many of his fears and prejudices. He had a chance to try to fix things. What should he do?

_Seize it. Seize it fast._

Florean Fortescue's. In the middle of _December_. Freezin_g, _icy December. Who in his right mind would choose it for a meeting? Was it a hint or what?

To his surprise, the place wasn't deserted. On the contrary, there were many families and groups gathered, as Diagon Alley remained as one of the few safe places from a possible attack from the Dark Lord, one of the few places where wizards and witches could reunite at peace... by now.

It didn't take him long to spot two unmistakably flaming heads. Gulping for air, Percy held his head high and edged through the narrow spaces between tables until he reached theirs.

'Good afternoon,' he said more stiffly than he intended to. He hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should wait for an invitation before sitting with them.

''Afternoon, Percy,' Bill said in an even voice, gesturing him to sit down. Percy couldn't help noticing his brothers had both sat at one side of the table, so he was right in front of them... like in a trial.

It couldn't be casual. Probably they had all planned beforehand... The thought irritated Percy, particulary because it made him to turn to defensive tactics. And they hadn't even started to talk.

'Do you want some ice-cream,' Bill inquired, with the same seriousness as if he'd asked Percy "Are you a Death Eater?"

He shrugged and nodded. 'Sure.'

As they waited for the young waitress to bring Percy's ice-cream, he took the time to study his brothers. Bill, with his even longer hair and his extravagant clothes, looked pretty much the same. Percy, though, didn't look at Bill much and instead focused on Charlie. His hair was shorter and he looked considerably thinner, whereas his face and arms had more marks and burns than ever. What the hell had he been doing for Dumbledore?

When his vainilla ice-cream arrived at last, Charlie dedicated Percy a faint smile and he knew at once what his brother would have said hadn't the circumstances been so tense (_Always so bloody conventional, eh Percy?_, just like when they were little) and he felt a wave of relief warm him for a moment. He'd always suspected that Charlie would be, of all his siblings, the easiest to approach. His temper was very similar to their mother's: he fired up easily and forgave just as fast. His smile, Percy thought, was a sign of that.

Percy's relief didn't last long: if facial expressions were enough sign of people's eagerness to forgive, then Bill's was none, as he wore an adust expression on his face. Percy tried his best not to gulp or look like a frightened child. The silence stretched on for some minutes, until Charlie said in a forcibly cheerful tone:

'Hey, Dad's told us about your new job. Sounds impressive, Percy. Fighting demons and all. I'd have gone for it hadn't it been for dragons.' He made another feeble attempt at a smile. 'Never thought you'd go for something like that... But, um, I'm sure you're good at it...'

Percy realised Charlie was doing a great effort on his part to keep things cool and he appreciated it. He talked a little about his job, and then another little bit about safe subjects like Oliver, Andrew or the band. Charlie kept asking questions, but there was an evident nervousness in his voice and gestures. Percy doubted he was really paying attention at all. Percy didn't mind, as he wasn't paying much attention to their small talk either. Soon the feeble chat died away, falling them all in an awkward silence. Bill had asked him a couple of uncompromised questions too, in the same even, collected voice he'd used before, but Percy could tell his heart wasn't on it. The three of them seemed to be waiting for something to happen, for some important and solemn event to take place. The problem was that Percy did not know what that event could be and, for the look of it, neither did Bill nor Charlie.

Percy started to eat his ice-cream at top speed until he remembered this was no Muggle candy that would melt. Although, now he came to think of it, in such a cold day even the poorest Muggle ice-cream would have lasted hours. Percy wished that the ice-cream would melt, though. Then _something_ would happen, even if it was as stupid as staining his shirt with melted vainilla. Besides, melted Muggle ice-cream made him think of evenings spent at the Multicolour Flat, watching films with Oliver and Andrew, perhaps even Vi and some of her friends, all having a good laugh and a good time. He wished he were in one of those 'movies marathons', as Andrew called them, instead of where he was now. At the Multicolour Flat there were no questionings, no attonement for past faults, no judgement. And no elder brothers that could make him feel like a four-year-old. Suddenly, Percy wasn't so fond of Fortescue's ice-cream anymore.

Charlie started a monologue on Quidditch which neither Percy nor Bill was paying any attention to. He seemed to realise this because a short while afterwards he fell silent without even getting finished a phrase about the Chudley Cannons' new Beater. Thick, dense silence charged with doubts, unsaid things, regrets and repressed feelings stretched between them, pushing them further from each other.

If Percy had thought before that the abyss between him and his brothers would be hard to cross, now he was certain it was nearly impossible. Percy stared at the two strangers sitting across him. They didn't feel like his brothers anymore. Had they really been a family, once? Had they really shared a home, a family, games on Sunday afternoons, birthday parties? Because right here, right now, he felt as he had never seen Bill or Charlie ever before. Judging from Charlie's sad attempts to pretend everything was normal, like nothing had happened between them, and Bill's detached silence, they felt the same.

What was the point, Percy wondered. They weren't going to mend their relationship like this, just pretending there had never been a rift between them in the first place. Admittedly, Percy had no idea of how they could repair it, or whether there was any hope left of doing so.

_The question is not whether it can be repaired or how. The question is..._

_...do you want to?_

Percy started. In all the time he had been brooding – because there was no better word to describe it – on the matter, it had never occured to him that seemingly foolish and yet vital question. Did he, Percy Weasley, want to make amends with his older brothers? Did he want to mend a relationship that had started to decay long before the Dark Lord's return? Or did he, perhaps, wish to start a better one, now they were at the same level and there were no prejudices or age difference to affect it?

Or was it too late to think about it? Were there too many regrets, too many bad memories for a fresh start?

Percy looked up from his never-ending vainilla ice-cream... and found Bill's blue eyes digging in his.

Percy had always been amazed at how many emotions those clear orbs could reflect. He had seen those eyes alight with interest, shining from excitement, flashing with anger, darkening with fear and watering from sadness. And he'd also seen them irradiating warming love and compassion.

The thought brought a distant memory to Percy's mind. He had been barely five years old and felt as though he was the most miserable boy in the face of earth. He had sat under the old oak, hiding from everyone to cry alone. He'd stayed there what had seemed a lifetime, although it probably had been a very short time. It was funny how time seemed to stretch on when one was young and felt heart-broken.

Bill had found him and, instead of laughing at him for crying like a baby, he'd sat at his side and gently asked what was wrong. Sobbing, Percy had explained that their dad had refused to buy him a pet.

'I didn't even ask for an owl,' Percy pouted. 'Just a puppy or a kitten... maybe even a puffskein...'

Nine-year-old Bill, although sympathised with Percy's disappointment as he had felt it many times before, was wise enough to know why his father had refused at Percy's request. Things weren't going all right at work, and many times Bill had seen his father, with sunken shoulders and a defeated expression on his face, bending over the kitchen table as he stared to a towering pile of bills, wondering how on earth they would make ends meet. Bill had long ago learnt that there were children that could get anything they wanted because their parents were rolling in magical gold and children like them, who couldn't. Unfair, but that was the way the world worked.

Bill put an arm around Percy's tiny shoulders, trying to comfort him. Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck him.

'Oi, Perce! You don't know what I found today in the bushes...'

Percy's curiosity was piqued.

'What did you find?'

Bill grinned.

'A rat. He's got a finger missing and looks quite beaten up but, if you wish, and if you promise you'd take care of him, it could be yours.'

Percy's eyes shone like stars as he flung his arms around his brother's neck.

'Thank you, thank you, thank you...'

Percy remembered. Percy remembered that day and many, many others, when his older brothers had been there for him, to offer him comfort, to lend him a hand. Apart of being the eldest, apart of being the ones who kept him out of games, apart of being the ones who outshone him, Bill and Charlie had been the ones he'd always turned to for help, the ones he'd turned for comfort, the ones who'd made him laugh. They had been the ones who had been with him through thick and thin during his whole childhood and adolescence, the ones who had defended him from any external menace, the ones who had praised him. They had been his heros, his protectors. They had been the first people he'd looked up to. They were his older brothers...

And nothing would change that.

Percy looked into his brother's eyes, which still were as blue as they had been that cold November day so many years ago, and made up his mind. He was surprised he hadn't been able to do it sooner. It was so simple, what needed to be done...

'I am sorry. For everything.'

Charlie started, astonished, but Bill kept his face unreadable. Percy, however, had no more questions, no more doubts.

'I am sorry for acting like a fool last year and walking out of our family. I am sorry for being an ungrateful brat, for not listening to yout advice, and for siding with the enemy. I do know that I cannot fix things... but my apologies are all I have to offer. If you're willing to accept them.'

A charged silence stretched on, a silence that lasted for an eternity and beyond. Charlie was nervously darting glances at his brothers; one, looking apologetic yet resolved; the other, with an unfathomable mask placed on his face. He gulped but did not dare to break such silence.

Then, in a sudden, like all miracles happen, a smile illuminated Bill's face, like a ray of light that came through dark clouds.

'Apologies accepted, Perce, but there was no need to offer them in the first place.'

Percy was nonplussed.

'But then... then why did you ask me to come here...?'

'Well,' Bill shrugged, a mischievious glint in his eyes, 'I could have send it by owl, but I thought it'd be better if I handed it in person.'

Percy frowned, feeling more and more bewildered by the second.

'Send me what?'

Bill's grin was broader than ever.

'The invitation to my wedding, moron.'

Percy was thrown off-balance for a moment. Then, as he looked back at his brother's eyes, he understood. He smiled, and by the corner of his eye he could see Charlie letting out a sigh of relief.

'Good to know you've finally decided to settle down. Who's the lucky girl?'

No more words were needed, no more questions, no more explanations, no more apologies. In the end, Percy realised that reconciling with his brothers was much simpler than he'd first thought. Because, as he had very recently leanrt, blood was thicker than water...

...and brotherhood lasted longer than wars, political intrigues and petty differences and jealously.

**Coming... Part Two: Fred and George**


	2. Part Two: Fred & George

**Annoying Author Notes:** First of all, many, many thanks to everyone who rewieved: **The Female Nerd**, **EvenAngelsCry**, **Lamarquise** (both the twins and Ron&Ginny are going to give him a hard time, you can count on that), **db** (nope, it's not gonna be easy at all), **Zoran**, (if you gave me your email, we could exchange ideas on the matter), **Rutu**, **Bluebird757**, **Velvet Green** and **Kerei Kitsune**.Sorry I kept you waiting, I've got a lot going on lately. Hope the chapter's worth the wait, I'm impatient to hear your opinions.

Secondly, I made an unbelievably stupid mistake in 'Awkward' (Part Three: Future Tense): I said Naoise's surname is Lannigan, when I had previously stated in 'Home, Bittersweet Home' that it was Donnovan. I can´t believe I don´t remember the names of my own characters!

Now, finally, here´s Part Two... enjoy!

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**Part Two: Fred and George**

The Wizarding world was going through one of the darkest periods of its entire history. The Dark Lord had set out to conquer the world once more and wizards and witches found themselves in open warfare. Every day news of more deaths, disappearances and strikes from the Dark Lord appeared on the Daily Prophet, and fear had spread across the country like a highly infectious disease. People had started to lock themselves at night, searching in vain the feeble security their homes could provide, and lately Diagon Alley looked like a depressing desert, even during the day. Nobody was keen on leaving their refuges unless they were compelled too, which meant there were no more reunions, meetings or just groups of friends or families hanging out in a sunny day. Wizarding families just kept to themselves, and acted as though they were under constant attack... which they sort of were. Not only had the Dark Lord taken away their sense of security, their hopes, the chance to trust, but he had also taken away their entire lifestyle.

Under the current circumstances, Percy couldn't help wondering which sort of person would throw a party. True, he'd always been stuck-up, but unless he was very much mistaken this wasn't exactly a festive time, although Christmas' holidays were approaching. People was being _murdered_ every day. Who could have a party under those circumstances?

In spite of how nuts the whole thing sounded, it was nothing but the naked truth. And, even more bizarrely, whoever was the lunatic who was throwing the party had hired Leprechaun's Gold to entertain his guests. Had the whole world gone mad?

Percy, feeling that his curiosity had been rightfully piqued, would have liked to learn more about such an obvious case of utter madness, but unfortunately it had been Black Eye the one they had contacted, and it was a well-known fact that Black Eye wasn't a talkative person. Actually, if he pronounced more than ten words a day the other members of the band considered it to be a miracle. The only information they had managed to get out from him had been the time and place of the party. About the people that would hire them, all he could say was that they were celebrating the success of their business or something of that sort; Black Eye wasn't truly interested. Sometimes, Percy wondered whether the taciturn man was capable of feeling any human emotion, such as curiosity.

What had immediately caught everyone's interest, though, was the amount of money that according to their drummer they would get paid for the private show. It was a large sum of money for such a modest band like Leprechaun's Gold that had played in only one private party before (which didn't really count, as it had been Riley's Great Auntie's birthday); everyone's eyes widened in wonder. However, Percy frowned and glanced at his partners, trying to deduce from the looks on their faces whether they were thinking among the same lines he was. Much to his disappointment, they didn't seem to. Sighing inwardly, Percy realised that once more he would have to play the part of the spoilsport.

'Er, not like I want to ruin the moment or anything, but... what do we now about the people will be playing for? I mean, I know it sounds stupid but – we're not exactly in peaceful times. How can we be sure it might not be dangerous?'

Everyone turned to stare at him and he felt himself reddening but did not look down. Riley was the first to recover from the shock, turning his stunned look into a roar of laughter.

'C'mon, Percy! You can't seriously believe that we're being hired to animate a Death Eaters' gathering. If we were a band like Spawn of Devil, maybe we could consider it –' At this point, Laoise started to snigger. It was a well-known fact that, in spite of their dark clothes and their "bad boys" facade, Spawn of Devil was a more pro-goverment band than the mega-commercial The Weird Sisters, which was saying a lot 'but _us_? C'mon, aren't our lyrics a little too romantic for the Dark Lord's taste? For some reason, I can't quite picture him singing the chorus of "With you 'till the end of magic", can you?'

At the end of such astounding speech, they had all burst into laughing, including Percy, although there was a small admonishing voice at the back of his head – which sounded awfully like his mother's – that scolded him for laughing at such a serious matter as the Dark Lord was. However, once laughter died away, Percy got serious again.

'Okey, so they're probably not Death Eaters – but we don't know which kind of people they might invite, if the place's safe or not...'

'Oh, c'mon,' Riley exlaimed, still looking amused. 'You sound like my Great Auntie Dannan. Loosen up a lil' bit, will you?'

'He's got a point, though,' Naoise interjected and Percy gave her a grateful smile. 'These aren't normal circumstances, Riley. Things aren't like they used to be.'

A thick, heavy silence fell upon them. News on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's attacks were getting worse by every passing day, and by now they all knew somebody who had either been attacked, murdered or withdrawn. Riley's words had been witty, and funny, but these days you couldn't be too trusting.

Laoise stopped bitting a nail long enough to add:

'And we don't know a thing about the blokes that are hiring us. They could be – well, anything.'

'Wendell Everett.'

Everyone turned to stare at Black Eye.

'Reuben what?'

'Wendell Everett.' It was Riley, not Black Eye, the one to answer Percy. 'It's his cousin... the one that wrote about review about us that was nearly published in the Prophet...'

'Oh, yeah...' Percy replied, remembering. He frowned. 'What does he have to do with any of this?'

Everyone turned, yet again, to Black Eye for answers. The man looked thouroughbly irritated at the prospect of having to waste so much breath in giving them an explanation.

'He knows the guys that're throwing the party. He recommended us.'

'And by any chance, did he mention where we'll be playing?'

Black Eye glared at Naoise, who didn't lower her eyes. Finally, he resigned to the inevitable.

'Rented local, Diagon Alley.'

He gave her a piece of parchment with an address scribbled on it, and pursed his lips, as if he were trying to silently state he woud not open his mouth again. And he didn't.

Naoise, who'd at first sided with Percy, considered that the fact Black Eye's cousin knew those that would hire them was reassuring enough. Laoise, who tended to agree with whatever her older sister thought, quickly manifestated that she was certain nothing could go wrong. On the other hand, Percy still didn't feel entirely reassured. After a moment's hesitation, though, he finally gave in and agreed to do the others' will. Delighted, Riley patted him on the back, Laoise smiled, Black Eye looked almost cheerful and Naoise planted a kiss on his cheek, making Percy grin like an idiot.

However, he still had a bad feeling about the whole thing...

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In spite of Percy's feelings of forebodding, the show they gave at the party turned out to be a success. The guests appeared to have loved their performance, judging from the clapping and cheering they had received, and nothing dodgy had come to pass, for which Percy was very grateful.

As they had been invited by Wendell – Black Eye's cousin – to stay over, Percy and Naoise had managed to find a quiet corner where they could drink their beers in peace... and maybe do some snogging, later. Thankfully, Percy had outgrown the phase he needed to hide in order to be able to kiss a girl although, much to Naoise's current disappointment, he hadn't overcame his refusal to dance in public.

'C'mon, Percy, it'd be just one dance... nobody is going to laugh at you...'

'No way, Naoise. You might be persuasive, but just not enough to convince me of making a fool of myself in a crowded place.'

Naoise gave him a feline smile.

'Let's see if you don't change the tune after a couple more beers.'

Percy laughed softly, certain that there was no way that could come to pass. Naoise pouted mockingly.

'So you won't dance with me?'

'Well... no. But I'm sure I can make it up for you...'

Her lips curved and her eyes gleamed.

'Really? 'Cause you'll have to prove it...'

He grinned. 'Not a probem...'

Just when Percy was getting closer to Naoise's inviting lips, a voice came from the crowd.

'Oi! Perce!'

Narrowing his eyes, a quite annoyed Percy turned to see Riley who, like always, seemed unaware of his surroundings. However, something in his face or Naoise's must have given him a clue, because he asked, beffudled.

'Um… Did I interrupr anything?'

'Yes, you did,' Naoise pointed out, 'but the harm's done, so just spill what you've come to say.'

Still looking bewildered, Riley nodded and turned to Percy, whose annoyance slowly vanished as his curiosity was piqued.

'What is it, Riley?'

The young man's eyes were alight of enthusiasm.

friend?'

'Yeah, I remember.' Percy frowned. 'Do the blokes have a name or what?'

Riley shrugged.

'Don't know, forgot to ask them how they were called. Anyway, they were impressed by us… especially you.'

Percy's eyes widened.

'Really?'

'Yep. They say it was the best guitar they heard in a while… But they couldn't see you well, 'cause of the stupid leprechaun hats we were all wearing –'

'Hey,' exclaimed Naoise, offended because the hats had been her idea in the first place. Percy suppressed a snigger. He couldn't say he was particularly fond of the hats.

'…so they want to see you face-to-face,' Riley continued, ignoring Naoise completely. 'They're on the other room. You going?'

Percy coulnd't honestly say that he wasn't pleased at Riley's words and yet he hesitated. As though she had read his mind, Naoise poked him on the arm.

'C'mon, Percy, go there and impress them so they hire us again. Don't worry about me, I'll have a fun time making sure Laoise doesn't get too drunk.' She shook her head as she glanced at the bar, where her sister was draining a mead bottle. 'That girl really can't hold her liquour.'

After placing a fleeting kiss on his cheek, she stood up from her stool and headed towards her sister. Trying not to look as disappointed as he felt, Percy put up his courage and walked towards the door Riley had indicated him, across the dancing floor, which was merely a large living room without almost any furniture. From what he could see, the place was somebody's house, which had been prepared to host the party in little time, judging from the way most of the furniture had been vanished but no decorations had been put up. And it wasn't like they were really needed, it was, after all, quite a small party. Probably the only ones who weren't personal friends of the hosts were themselves, something that had managed to ease Percy's worries a little. The people he was about to meet weren't as mad as he'd first thought, after all.

After he'd seen their faces, though, he'd changed his mind.

Avoiding the dancing couples, some of them so entwined with each other that was impossible to tell where the boy started and the girl ended, Percy managed to make his way across the room and hesitated the briefest instant in front of the door. Then he knocked faintly, and after a few moments he heard a muffled voice coming through the door:

'C'me in!'

Percy pulled the door open and stepped into a dimly illuminated place that seemed to be a small sitting room. He took a look around, as his gaze got used to the lack of light. Here nobody had bothered to get rid of the furniture, which was old and musty and had the distinct air of not having been used in a long while. There were sinister portraits of ancient-looking men and women with old-fashioned robes and white pelucas, giant maroon flowers decorated the walls and every surface was coevered with velvet tableclothes with lace. Percy repressed a shiver. Who could live there?

'Don't get scared by the decorations: this lovely place belongs to the great aunt of a friend… in case you haven't noticed.'

Something in the casual tone made a bell rang in Percy's brain, but he ignored it. He turned and saw two men on his right. One of them with his back turned on him – he was pouring Butterbeer in three glasses. The other one was turning to face Percy.

The first thing Percy noted were the identical, quite fancy jackets made of dragon skin. Percy couldn't remember where he'd last seen such jackets. Then, he noticed that they were both stock-build and even in the half-darkened room he could see that their hair sparkled red. At last, Percy's eyes reached the face of the young man that was in front of him, whose juvenile smile froze the moment he locked eyes with Percy. Suddenly, Percy knew who were the only people mad enough to throw a party in the middle of a war.

The young man's jaw fell open.

'What the hell are _you_ doing here?'

Percy, who had just understood how bizarre the situation was, nearly let out a hysterical laugh. Before he could pull himself together and answer – that given he could have done so – the other man had turned round, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

'Fred, what's going…?'

He never finished that sentence. Instead, his eyes widened until Percy feared they might pop out, and stared at his older brother as though he were a ghost, a Death Eater, or both.

'Why are you here,' George asked. His tone sounded more shocked than angry.

_Give him time._

Okey, so this was so not the encounter he'd imagined with his twin brothers. Hell, he couldn't have pictured such ridiculous circumstances in his wildest dreams… or his worst nightmares.

In the end, he decided to be honest.

'Riley said you wanted to see me.'

George frowned, still more perplexed than mad. 'We didn't want to see you, we wanted to see…' Dawning comprehension shone in his eyes. 'Wait a moment… you are the guitar player of the Leprechaun's!' He frowned. '_You _play in a band and you're actually good at it? Since when?'

Certainly, the last thing Percy would have thought he'd talk with his brothers when he finally saw them again were his musical abilities or lack of thereof. Before he could come up with a halfway decent reply, a low, deadly voice whispered:

'What the sodding hell are you doing him?'

Both Percy and George winced and turned to look at Fred, behind whose eyes poorly repressed anger flickered. Percy frowned.

'I've already told you, I play with…'

'Don't care who the hell you play with, what I' asking is why you came to our party, when you should know none of us wants to see you!'

At Fred's outburst, instead of freaking out, Percy felt indignant.

'I didn't know it was your party, OK!'

George frowned. 'Are you telling me that you, Mister Safety, came to a place willingly without knowing who was throwing the party?'

Percy squirmed, remembering what he himself had told Riley and the others, but nevertheless shot him a somewhat defiant look.

'One of the band's members has a cousin that was coming. It seemed safe enough. And, anyway, you hired use without knowing who we were! You were as careless as I was.'

Geroge stared at him, incredulous. Percy could not say he blamed him. After all, the twins were always reckless. It had been utterly dumb to excuse his own behaviour with theirs.

Besides, he suspected there was more to this discussion than a simple argument because of a party. No, this went much, much deeper, and Percy wasn't sure he wanted to dwell in such dangerous waters. Especially as Fred looked ready to jump to his throat in any minute.

Before such regrettable thing took place, though, the door swung open and, to Percy's shock, a slightly staggering Naoise almost fell in.

'Percy, luv, there you are!' Her eyes were conspicuously bright and a faint smell of alcohol surrounded her. Percy mentally groaned. None of the Donnovan sisters was famous for holding her liquour.

Somehow she managed to zigzag towards him and wrap her arms around his neck, as she placed a wet kiss on his cheek. Percy, who in other circumstances would've been delighted, felt how his face reddened. Naoise smirked, and turned to face the twins.

'Never mind Percy, he's a little too proper for his own good…'

Her voice tailed off and Percy could see why: Fred and George were staring at her as if she had grown an extra head. Naoise looked confused, and Percy suspected it wasn't just because of alcohol.

As Fred and George shamelessly sted at Naoise's blue hair and her provocative clothes, she examined them in the same fashion. She frowned.

'You're twins.'

Percy idly wondered whether all drunk people had an unnervinf tendency to point out the obvious. The twins, needless to say, didn't bother to dignify that with an asnwer. Although, judging from the stunned looks on their faces, perhaps they wouldn't have been able to utter a word even if they had wanted to.

Naoise's eyes widened as her eyes went from the boys to Percy.

'Hold on a sec… They aren't _your_ twin brothers, are they?'

Percy sighed.

'As a matter of fact, they are.'

In a sudden, Naoise looked completely sober.

'Oh, crap!'

Percy thought he couldn't have found better words to describe the situation they've gotten themselves into.

'Who is she?'

Fred's tone was definitely hostile and, in Percy's opinion, unecessarily rude.

'Naoise happens to be our bass player,' he pointed out, his even voice trying to conceal his irritation. 'And my… well…'

Reaching this point, inspiration abandoned him. What should he say? Friend? Lover? Flame? He and Naoise had never bothered to label their relationship.

To his surprise, it was Naoise herself who solved the problem.

'Girlfriend.'

Percy gaped at her.

'Girlfriend?'

For once, Naoise looked unsure.

'Well… why not? We've been dating for a while now, I thought… But, if you don't want to…'

'Of course I do,' Percy hastened to say before she could change her mind. She beamed and he thought she'd never looked more stunning. 'She's my girlfriend,' he informed the twins, who were now looking at them with an air that suggested they feared for their sanity. _Who would have thought I'd see the day **I** managed to shock Fred and George?_

'Um, hi, nice to meet you, I guess.'

Naoise's words were received with a deadly silence. Suddenly, the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped several degrees. Percy decided to act before disaster took place.

'Nao, why don't you go to check on Laoise? I'll catch up with you later.'

She looked uncertain. 'Are you sure?'

Naoise was, along with Oliver, Andrew and Vi, one of the few people Percy had told the full story of the rift with his family. She'd even been the one who'd encouraged him to face Bill and Charlie. She understood perfectly what was going on… and probably that was the reason she didn't want to leave him alone. However, Percy thought he was the only one who knew just how ugly it could get and didn't want her to witness it. He'd seen that pale shade on Fred's face and the flashing anger in his eyes enough times before not to recognise the signs of impending doom. And he was certain that, as soon as George got over the initial feeling of shock, things would go downhill.

'Go, Nao. I'll join you afterwards.'

With one last quick kiss on Percy's cheek and one last apprehensive glance at the twins, she left. Percy still felt light-headed by the sudden revelation that he had a girlfriend… but that would not last.

'_She's_ your girlfriend?' Was it awe what he heard on George's tone or incredulity? Or maybe both?

'I wonder what sort of brain damage she suffered as a child.'

Fred's chilly voice seemed to remind the other two where they were. To Percy's surprise, George looked a little uncomfortable.

'You should go, Percy. I… I'll arrange the payment with Wendell's cousin – it was a good show…'

Percy had the sudden impression that George didn't want to face this anymore than he did._ Well, maybe I can get out of this halfway unscathed…_

But you could always count on Fred.

'Yeah, don't worry, Perce, you'll get your money. After all, that's all you ever cared about, isn't it?'

Percy's eyes narrowed. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

George hastened to stand between them.

'Percy, just get out, okey?'

Percy folded his arms. 'Oh, no. It's evident that Fred's dying to say something and that he won't leave us in peace until he does, right? So, I say,' Percy continued as he circled George and sank into a dusty armchair, 'let him speak.' He crossed his legs and tilted his head to one side. 'C'mon, Fred. Fire away.'

Percy knew that what he was doing was unwise, but he also knew that sooner or later he would have to face his brothers, so he'd better do it in his own terms. _Go on, lil' brother. Tell me what you think about me._

Fred snorted. 'OK.' He picked an oak chair, turned it and sat with one leg in each side, his elbows resting on the seat's back. 'Where should I begin? Oh, yes,' he said, his voice deceivingly calm, 'you're a prat. And a git. And, of course, a traitor.'

Percy had to make an inhuman effort to keep his face straight.

'That seems to be a good beginning.'

Fred forced a smile. 'Oh, it is, isn't it? Do you want to hear the reasons why I say you're a prat, a git, and a traitor?'

Percy made his lips curved into a smile as forced as Fred's.

'For some reason, I got the impression you were going to tell me one way or another.'

By the corner of his eye, he saw a silent George grabbing a chair and sitting down. _Showtime._

'Well, as a matter of fact, I am,' Fred continued, his tone mockingly pompous. Percy grimaced. Fred had always been good at imitating him. 'See, Percy, you're a prat because you preferred to trust that cow of Umbridge and the idiot of Fudge instead of trusting your own parents. Blimey, how much of a moron you had to be to trust Fudge's judgement over Dumbledore's? As if you hand't seen the Dark Mark at the Quidditch Cup, as if your beloved Mr. Crouch hadn't been murdered! Of course that the last one was sort of convenient to you, wasn't it,' he added, silkily, 'With Crouch out of the picture, you had the coast clear to do what you always enjoyed – bossing everyone around.'

At this words, George winced... and proceeded to drain the contents of the three glasses of Butterbeer in quick sucession. Percy ignored him: his hands were grabbing the armchair so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

'Interesting theory.' He had a hard time trying that the voice that came through his gritted teeth didn't sound like a growl. 'So, what else do you have to say about me?'

Fred feigned considering the question, looking rather unabashed.

'Well, then I'd have to explain why you're a git. You're a git 'cause it wasn't enough for you to turn to Fudge's side, you also had to insult Dad about not having enough money and the right reputation.' Fred's gaze turned as sharp and cold as scissors. 'If I recall your words, you said something like because of Dad's reputation you had a hard time at the Ministry.' He tilted his head to one side. 'Let's see if I understand. You had a hard time at the Ministry because Dad preferred to dress us in second-hand robes instead of shamelessly accept bribes from people like Lucius Malfoy, just like Fudge did? You had a hard time because of Dad's reputation as a Muggle-loving fool – reputation he got by trying to do the right thing for helpless people instead of keeping busy by kissing the Minister's ass?'

At this point, George had grabbed the bottle of Butterbeer and glared at it, probably wishing it contained something stronger. Looking resigned, he finally placed it back on the table. Fred, who'd taken no notice of his twin, continued his monologue.

'Poor of you, what a shame. It must have been so embarassing for you to have a decent bloke for a father instead of an inscrupulous high-flyer. Or perhaps you would have preferred to have Crouch as a father; Crouch, whose own child was a Death Eater!'

Percy opened his mouth, but Fred didn't give him enough time to reply.

'So you insulted the whole family and had your dramatic exit. As if that hadn't been enough, you slammed the door right on Mum's face when she tried to get you back. Do you have an idea, a minimal idea of how much your hurt her? She spent the whole bloody summer crying whenever she heard your name! And then there was Dad's stay at St.Mungo's. You didn't even bother to send an owl asking how he was. He nearly died, and you didn't give a shit, did you? No, of course you dind't. You'd gotten a new family, hadn't you?'

Fred was panting, his face so red that it looked like his head would blow up in any moment. Sadly, that didn't stop him from talking.

'There was Fudge, who cared too much about power to do nothing to stop You-Know-Who from raising again and, of course, lovely Umbridge. Tell me, Percy, did you know the mad decrees she forced upon the school, like the one that allowed Filch to torture students? Or what she did to the students, to the children, during detentions?'

Percy noted that now his brother's face was completely devoid of colour, the only sign of life being the blazing rage in his eyes.

'Oh, she made them write lines, with no ink but a very special quill. A quill that cut through your skin and wrote the words in blood. What, you don't believe me,' he inquired in a colourless tone at Percy's horrified expression. 'If you see Harry, ask him to show you the back of his hand, where you're clearly see the words _"I must not tell lies"_ that horrible cow made him write.'

Fred let out a humourless chuckle. ''Course, I doubt he would talk to you, after the way you lot tried to make him look like a nutter when he'd been telling the truth the whole time.'

'How could you, Percy? How could believe such things of Harry, whom you'd known so well for years?'

George's soft voice started both Percy and Fred. Before the first could answer his question, though, Fred interjected:

'That's the question, George: did he believe any of it? Or did he just play along so he could get a promotion and a payrise?' Fred arched his eyebrows. 'If you asked me, I'd say the real reason he did all those things, he inflicted our parents all that pain, wasn't because he really believed Fudge's rubbish – but because it was convenient. Am I wrong, Percy? Wasn't it your dream, getting promoted? Even if it meant pushing your own family aside?' Fred shrugged. 'Guess that you didn't care. Why would you? You were always a cold-blooded bastard, who cared too much about academical success to have any friends. Who cared more about money and reputation than his own family or the truth. And that,' he whispered, his voice as cold and scathing as a sharp knife, 'is what makes you a traitor.'

A heavy, electrifying silence took over the room. The sounds of the party seemed to have vanished into thin air, as it was taking place in another world.

Percy felt himself trembling from head to foot. Each one of Fred's words ached like a blow, each one of his comments cut through his skin like Umbirge's hellish quill. He was shaken by the cruelness of Fred's tone – but he was even more shaken because many of the things he'd said had been the very same things he'd reproached himself during those long evenings in the Hog's Head.

But he was Percy Weasley, and he did not show weakness that easily.

Instead, he pulled himself together in no time and managed to stand up without staggering. Towering over them, Percy shot each one of his brothers one long, detached look.

'That's what you think of me?'

Fred raised his chin, defiantly, and stood up. So did his twin.

'It is.'

The look on George's face was as cold as the one on his twin's face. Percy shrugged.

'Then there's nothing left to talk. I'm leaving now.'

'You do that.'

Percy had reached the door and his hand was turning the knob when he froze. _What the hell am I doing?_ He spun around so quickly that he nearly fell over.

'I'm not leaving.'

The twins stared.

'_What?_'

'Yes! You've told me what you thought about me, didn't you?' He strode towards them. 'Then I'm not leaving until I have told you what I think of you.'

Fred looked startled. George, on the other hand, calmly said:

'Go ahead. Elighten us.'

Percy open his mouth, and closed it. His inspiration and his eloquence seemed to have gone on vacation. The twins looked up at him, both with their eyebrows arched.

And then, Percy opened his mouth… and words just seemed to burst out from it.

'OK, let's start right from the beginning, shall we?' He made an effort and finally his voice came out without shaking. 'You say I'm an idiot for trusting Fudge instead of Dumbledore. OK, perhaps Fudge was never the sharpest tool in the box, but I never thought he was stupid. Call me naïve, but back then I really believed that a person that had managed to become Minister of Magic had to be competent. And about Dumbledore -' Percy bit his lower lip, knowing that his words wouldn't be welcomed. 'I always thought he was brilliant – but even you have to admit that he'd made a lot of mistakes in the last couple of years. It's no wonder the Prophet could say he was losing his marbles and people actually believed it.'

Infuriated, George nearly jumped from his seat.

'How dare you…?'

'Think, George, think!' Percy urged him. 'When I was in my fifth year and you were in your third, a troll walked in on Haloween, a teacher tried to murder a student twice and our brother was nearly killed, all right under Dumbledore's nose. The following year… well, you know as well as I do what happened that year, including Ginny nearly dying!'

They all shivered, remembering the dreadful night none of them had been able to sleep, too shaken because of Ginny's kidnap. It had been, by far, the worst night of their lives.

This time, it took George longer to recover from the blow... but he was a Weasley, so he would never run out of words.

'That wasn't Dumbledore's fault!'

'Maybe not,' Percy conceded, 'but he didn't manage to put a stop to it either, did he? Let's move forward: next year, a mass murderer wanders around the school grounds as he pleases…'

'Sirius was innocent! Even the Ministry has admitted it!'

'We didn't know that back then, did we?' he pointed out. Fred fell silent. 'And again Ron and his friends were nearly killed when Lupin got loose, weren't they? Sure that Lupin was a great teacher, but obviously there weren't enough measures to ensure students' safety. And that takes us to the Triwizard Tournament –'

'Nobody foresaw it! It wasn't just Dumbledore's fault – the Ministry couldn't have prevented what happened either –'

Percy raised an eyebrow. 'By now, don't you think that quite many things – terrible things – happened under this great wizard's nose so that a lot of people could think his mind wasn't as sharp as it used to be? Does it sound so preposterous?' Percy tried to prevent his voice from shaking. 'Does it sound insane that the Minister of Magic might be right and my parents could be deluded by their loyalty to Dumbledore? You never, ever thought our parents could make mistakes? That they could be wrong and you right about something?'

'Yeah, but we didn't insult them like you did, did we,' George replied scathingly. Percy sighed.

'It's true I said terrible things that I shouldn't have. I've already apologised for them to Mum and Dad. I regret saying them – but I was angry. I really thought I deserved that promotion –'

'Despite not noticing that your boss was being controlled by You-Know-Who?' Fred looked incredulous. 'It was kinda a big screw up, don't you think?'

Percy bit his lip and made his best attempt at taking the blow gracefully.

'Yes, in spite of that. Which, I should remind you that back then I didn't know a thing about the Imperius Curse. I had worked hard, harder than anyone, so the promotion seemed only natural. When Dad told me Fudge was using me, I – well, I felt insulted and lost my temper.' Percy shot them a defiant look. 'You're telling me that you never lost your temper and let things get out of hand?'

'We've never deliberatly hurt them,' George blurted out. Percy narrowed his eyes.

'Oh, no, not deliberatly. But you did it. You did it every time you got in trouble and Mum fretted 'cause she was convinced you'd get expelled, you did it when you terrified Ron to death with your jokes – did you even know that he has arachnophobia because of your trick with his teddy bear, Fred? – you did it when you ridiculised Dad's hobby, not to mention when you almost made him lose his job because of that stupid car!'

George's eyes snapped open. 'It was Ron the one who was seen with the car, not us!'

Percy eyed him intently. 'Really? And who taught him to use the car? Which, it was not only reckless because of Dad's job, but also because Ron could've gotten seriously hurt-'

'Oh, sod off!' Fred snapped. 'As if you cared for Ron's or any of us' safety! The only thing that mattered to you back then and always was whether we ruined your precious reputation!'

Percy felt as though he'd been punched. He staggered backwards and stared at Fred's furious, sneering face. For a moment, he felt too shocked, too horrified to react. He'd never, ever, felt so insulted. Could his own brother think such a thing about him? Could anyone, really?

'You think that's all I cared about, don't you?' His voice was flat and lifeless. 'My reputation, my Head Boy badge?'

Fred raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. 'Wasn't it?'

Percy's eyes widened in disbelief.

'No, it wasn't,' he exploded, and both boys took a step backwards. 'Are you dim or what!' He started to pant. 'My badge was important to me, but it wasn't the most important thing, damnit! If I fretted over you, if I tried to watch over you, if I lectured you sometimes, it wasn't because of Gryffindor's points, but because I cared about what happened to you, morons! I told you off for playing pranks because I didn't want you to get in trouble or to be expelled, not because of what McGonagall could've thought of me, 'cause I knew she already esteemed me enough to ignore you,' he spat. 'When I got mad at Ron for sneaking into a girls' bathroom, it wasn't because I feared he would ruin my chances of being chosen as Head Boy, but because the bloody Chamber of Secrets had been opened!'

Percy realised he was hyperventilating. He tried to calm himself down but he felt his heart pounding furiously against his chest, both from rage, indignation and something else Percy could not identify. Fred and George were stunned into silence… for now.

'When in her first year, Ginny was so jumpy and you kept playing pranks on her –'

'We were trying to cheer her up,' Fred began, but Percy silenced him with a glare.

'Of course you were, but that didn't stop Ginny from getting paler and paler every passing day,' he hissed, 'that didn't stop her from crying until she had perpetually red eyes in the morning, that didn't stop her from looking sicker every day or from having nightmares all the time. Did you even notice all these things? Did you even realise how badly she was doing?'

'Don't you dare to imply we didn't care about her,' George growled. Percy merely shrugged.

'Sure you cared, and you tried to cheer her up. But sometimes making other people laugh isn't enough. Sometimes, being funny and witty and popular doesn't work. Sometimes you have to tell them off when they're screwing it up or to watch over them even when they don't want to or, to put it in your words, be a stuck-up git with no humour sense, just to help them out. And no, that doesn't make you popular, that doesn't make you their favourite person in the world – but you do it because you care for them, and you're willing to take the risk.'

Percy fell silent, his body trembling, his mouth completely dry. Once again, silence fell upon them like a rock… or a tombstone.

George's eyes were as round as Remembralls, even his mouth was slightly open. Evidently he'd never expected such outburst from his elder brother.

Truth to be told, Percy hadn't been expecting it either.

Fred, on the other hand, was shifting his weight from one foot to another. Something in his movements made Percy think of a panther getting ready to jump at its victim throat. Percy wasn't surprised. He'd always known that Fred not only was the most amusing and reckless of the twins, but he also was the one who fired up more easily and that could be infinitely nastier. No, Fred would not be convinced by mere words. He needed facts, things he could feel, and see and seize. Percy just didn't now how he would give them to him, or whether he would want to.

'For caring so much, you pretty much forgot all about us in the last year, didn't you,' Fred said scathingly. 'Except you count that awful letter you sent to Ron, with all that hideous stuff about Harry – because, when Dad was in St.Mungo's, you didn't even show up, did you?'

Percy closed his eyes for a moment, tired. Would they ever run out of reproachs? However, a nasty little voice in the back of his mind hastened to point out: _You do know they're right, aren´t you?_

'That letter wasn't one of my finest moments,' Percy admitted. 'Harry did not deserve many of the things written there – but, like I said before, back then I was naïve enough to fear those things everyone was saying could be truth and I didn't want Ron to get in trouble, like he'd done so many times just for following Harry Potter around.'

'And what about Dad,' George cut in.

'It's true I didn't show up – but that doesn't mean that I wasn't concerned, nor that I did not try to find out by other means how he was doing.'

'I don't believe you,' spat Fred. Percy shrugged.

''Course not. You never believed one thing I said, you never heard to one piece of advice I gave you, you never took me seriously. Why would you believe me now?'

'You never trusted us either,' George pointed out. 'How could we trust you?'

'And how could I trust you, when you were playing tricks on me the whole time?' he demanded. 'If you were constantly mocking every thing I said?'

'That was because you were nagging us all the time,' George defended himself. 'You were rather insufferable, mind you.'

'So were you, but people just found you funnier,' Percy replied. 'You played pranks on everyone, without giving a damn -'

'They were innocent –'

'Not always, George, and you know that as well as I do. You just took things too far, never stopping to consider what you were doing, never thinking about the harm you could be provoking – in short, you didn't care much about the rest, but everyone loved you, didn't they?' To Percy's horror, an acid, resentful tone of envy was staining each one of his words, but he simply could not stop himself. 'You were arrogant and inmature, you took many risks without thinking about consequences or how it could affect others, you were extremely selfish. And you were as ambitious as I was, and just as willing to do things that weren't precisely noble just to get what you wanted.' Percy grimaced. 'You just were better at pretending than I was.'

'_How dare you?_,' Fred roared. 'How dare you…? You have no clue of all we've been through or what we've done in this war, don't know us at all…'

'And neither you know me.' Percy sighed, suddenly devoid of resentment, of anger, of energy. 'And where does that take us?' Percy tilted his head and eyed Fred, who still looked ready to jump. Did he ever run out of adrenaline?

Percy had a sudden revelation. This wasn't going to be solved by talking. That just wasn't Fred Weasley's style. No, more drastic measures would be needed.

_Well, let's just give the brat what he wants, shall we?_

He eyed his younger brother, folding his arms. 'Do you want to punch me?'

'_What?_'

'Punch me, Fred,' explained Percy softly. 'Would it make you feel better? Would it help you to get over it? Because if that's the case, go ahead. Punch me and let's finish this once and for all.'

'What the hell…? Percy, you can't be serious… Fred, c'mon, don't be…'

Percy never knew what George was going to say next, because he felt a blazing pain in his jaw as Fred's right fist impacted against it. He staggered backwards, George yelped and Fred pulled back his arm to strike again – but this time, Percy was ready. When Fred launched himself forwards, he ducked and tackled his younger brother, dragging him to the ground. Once there he felt Fred's knee on his ribs in the very same moment Percy elbowed him as hard as he could.

Soon they were struggling so fiercely that Percy could neither tell where he was punching nor where he was being punched. It seemed like all the bottled up anger, frustration, and Merlin knows what had finally come out and Percy just couldn't stop himself. By the looks of it, neither could Fred.

'Stop it! Fred, Percy! Let it go!'

Percy was dimly aware of Geroge's bellowing, but he ignored it. So did Fred. Ironically, it was the first time they'd tacitly agreed on something.

'_IMPEDIMENTA!_'

Fred and Percy broke apart and, with a sudden and identical sense of doom, looked up to where the remaining twin's looming figure stood. George looked positively mad. His nostrils were flaring and his eyes burnt holes in his brothers'.

'WHAT THE SODDING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?' he bellowed. 'ARE YOU FIVE OR WHAT? CAN'T YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM BY TALKING, LIKE CIVILISED PEOPLE DO?' He panted. 'No, Fred, shut up. You've already said enough, and that goes for you too, Percy. OK, so you're mad with us because we were prats, and we're mad with you 'cause you were a git. Got it! Now, get up from the floor and start to behave like human beings, do you hear me!'

Percy thought he'd never seen anything as scary as George in that moment. From the look on Fred's face, neither had he.

'Don't you realise what is going on?' George went on, in a lower but not less angered tone. 'There's a bleeding war out there, and you're bickering like when we were children or worse! Who cares if Percy was stuck-up or if we were careless? There're people dying out there, for Merlin's beard! Can't you take your head out of your butt long enough to see that next minute one of you could be dead? Whatever is wrong with you, get over it already!'

And with those last words echoing in their ears, he spun around so fast he nearly knocked a chair, pushed it away, swung open the door and disappeared. Percy and Fred exchanged a glance.

'Is he always such a charming boy?'

Fred shrugged, although he also looked a little shaken. 'Believe it or not, we have arguments every now and then – although he rarely fires up like this. He's supposed to be Dr.Jekyll and me, Mr.Hyde.'

With some difficulty, Percy pulled to his feet and, without sparing it a second thought, he stretched out a hand to Fred. After hesitating for the briefest moment, he took it and Percy pulled him to his feet. An awkward silence stretched between them.

'Well, maybe we should go and enjoy what's left of the party…'

That was when a high-pitched scream tore apart their eardrums.

---

Both the music and the lights were out. Screams, cursing, hurried footsteps, thumps, and all the usual noises that Percy associated with what Faith called 'deep shit' and Wesley, 'massive panic attack', reached his ears. This didn't look good.

'What's going on?'

Percy pushed Fred back, just in time to prevent him from being knocked by a running blonde lady.

'Is this… Is this a Death Eater attack?'

For once, the brave and careless Fred Weasley sounded scared. In spite of himself, Percy had to repress a snort. _There you go_, he couldn't help thinking, _that's for throwing a party in the middle of a war_.

However, as Percy's eyes scrutinized the surrounding darkness, he realised something was off. There was a piece of the puzzle that didn't fit with the others. _Something's missing… but what is it?_

And then, the missing piece fell into its right place:

'Nobody's throwing curses,' he whispered.

'What?'

Percy looked at Fred over his shoulder.

'If this was a Death Eater attack, you'd see curses flying in every direction, wouldn't you? But you don't see any… there are no sparks, no yelled hexes…' Actually, now he came to think of it, the only magic he saw people were using was the Lumos Charm. Nobody was attacking them… or, at least, they weren't doing it with magic. But then, what…?

And then he saw it. By the faint light of an ignited wand, he distinguished an inhuman face with now familiar ridges and eyes that flashed golden. The vision lasted an instant, as the creature moved too fast for Percy's gaze to follow it, but he'd seen enough.

'They aren't Death Eaters… they're vampires.'

Fred's eyes widened. 'But how can it be? They can't enter unless they're invited, can they?'

Percy frowned. 'Are you sure nobody could've invited them in by accident?'

His brother shook his head at once. 'Except for you lot, I knew all the guests personally…' His voice, though, tailed off. 'Oh, no… Isn't that Kenneth Towler?'

Percy followed Fred's horrified gaze and saw a vampire in bright blue robes chasing after none other but Black Eye's cousin, Wendell… something.

'Oh, shit… He was turned into a vampire? I can't believe it…'

Ignoring Fred, Percy aimed in Towler's direction.

'_Incendio!_'

The vampire roared as flames devoured him. Soon only ashes were left on the ground.

Fred's eyes were as wide as saucers.

'What… what…?'

Percy grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him.

'Listen up, Fred. There are only four ways of getting rid of vampires: beheading, sunlight, wood across the heart and fire. The one we've got at hand is fire, so this is what we need: light, fire, and calm down people before there's a bloodshed. Got it?' Fred nodded, very pale. 'And get George.'

Fred nodded one last time and, as Percy blended in the crowd, he heard his voice cry:

'_Lumos Maxima!_'

The room was lit up at once. _Good._ If people could see what was attacking them, they had less chances of panicking and getting killed. Besides, vampires would have a harder time to hide.

Percy saw one of them dragging a girl – was it the old Gryffindor's Quidditch player, Alicia-what-ever? – towards a corner, while she screamed and stuggled. Without sparing a second, Percy dashed towards them. When he was close enough he aimed his wand at the vampire, but the girl was too close – he couldn't set it on fire. _Damnit._

'_Impedimenta!_'

He only managed to slow down the vampire a little but not much more. Vampires, like giants, were incredibly resistant to spells. Which was worse, now the creature was aware he had an opponent.

Smirking, the vampire twisted the girl's arm, who let out an ear- splitting cry, and put her against his chest, between him and Percy.

'C'mon, wizard. Shoot me now.'

He let out a nasty laugh, as one of his long nails traced a red bloody line on the girl's cheek. Percy gritted his teeth. _Son of a bitch._

And he saw it. Somebody must have dropped it in the chaos that had ensued after the vampires had crashed in. Percy stopped himself from smirking.

'Wingardium Leviosa!'

The vampire winced, but nothing happened. He shot a quizzical look at Percy.

'Looks like your mojo backfired, huh?'

This time, Percy didn't try to conceal his smile.

'Accio wand!'

The wand, that somebody must have dropped right behind the vampire, rose to the air with the first spell… and then darted forwards, staking the vampire on his back.

As the girl fell to the floor in a cloud of dust, Percy caught the wand that flew to his hand.

'Are you okey?'

Still looking shaken up, the girl nodded.

'Here, you might find it useful.' He tossed her the wand… and heard a piercing scream that turned the blood in his veins into ice.

'_Naoise!_'

He spun round at lightspeed just in time to see Laoise's head hit the ground at her sister's feet, blood staining her face. A vampire in old-fashioned clothes with a terrifying smirk was turning in Naoise's direction.

Percy tried to run towards her, but she was in the opposite side of the room and there were too many people in between, all running and crashing against each other. Percy began to elbow, push and, if necessary, hex everyone on his way. When he craned his neck, he saw the vampire getting closer to Naoise, who seemed petrified.

'Fire, Naoise! Set it on fire!'

Naoise winced and her eyes found his.

'Set in on… ouch!'

Somebody had pushed Percy from behind, making him to trip and fall over, his face crashing against the floor. He felt a burning pain on his nose as blood rolled over his face and he would have bet his eyes were swelling, but there was no time to lose. He jumped to his feet and dashed forwards.

_Not Naoise, please, not Naoise…_

He shouldn't have worried, though – as soon as he had a clear view, he saw Naoise ducking when the vampire tried to grab her neck, roll over and hit the creature with a well-aimed Fire Charm. _That_'_s my girl_, he thought, delighted, as he run to her side.

'Percy,' she exclaimed, alarmed. 'What happened to your face?'

He waved a dismissive hand. 'Never mind that, how are you?'

'I'm fine, but Laoise-'

Percy pressed a finger on Laoise's neck.

'She's got pulse, don't worry…'

'Oh, thank goodness…'

Percy grabbed Naoise's shoulder. 'Take her to another room and stop the blood from coming out, if a vampire gets in your way, set it on fire at once.'

'What about you?'

Percy tried to look confident in spite of her concerned face.

'I'll be fine – this is my job, remember?'

She didn't look one hundred per cent reassured, but Laoise needed help inmeaditely and there was no time to lose, so she picked up her sister and disappeared from sight. Sighing from relief, Percy pulled to his feet – and heard a cold, feminine voice hiss in his ear:

'So, you're the Wiccan that works for the Slayers, huh?'

Before Percy could react, he felt her tight grip on his waist – the next moment, he was flying across the room.

His back hit painfully against the bar, the sound of shattering bottles filled his ears as he slipped and his body hit the floor. Air abandoned his lungs as an unbearable pain paralysed his muscles and bright stars seemed to dance before his eyes. He gasped for air and turned, just to see the female vampire jump onto the bar with the grace of a cat.

'C'mere, boys! Here's food for all,' her sing-song voice pierced Percy's ears and he felt his heart stopping when another two vampires appeared at each side of her, already transformed and growling.

_My wand,_ Percy thought desperatly as shards of broken glass cut his hands, _where's my wand?_

'Oh, no, darling, I don't think so.'

She jumped from the bar and stomped on his hands. Percy let out a gasp of pain. Cackling, another of the vampires landed next to him and grabbed him by the collar of his robes.

'Let's have fun, shall we?'

His sharp teeth seemed to gleam in front of Percy's eyes.

_I'm so screwed._

And then, suddenly, unexpectadly, he was released as flames danced before his eyes, only to be followed by ashes. Percy blinked and when he opened his eyes again, colourful sparks hit the female vampire, making her to burst.

'What the hell…?'

The third vampire never ended that sentence, because what eeriely seemed to be a Catherine wheel hit him, covering him in flames. Wait a moment. That didn't look like a Catherine wheel. That was a Catherine wheel!

Percy turned, and over the bar he saw the most bizarre scene yet: sparks, Catherine wheels and all kinds of fireworks appeared everywhere – and seemed to hit all vampires, as if they were being directed. His eyes widening in awe, he scrutinized the sight that appeared before his eyes... and saw Fred and George moving their wands as though they were leading an orchestra, making each firework hit its target. When he caught sight of his brother watching, Fred showed him a thumb up.

_Well, that was quite unexpected._

---

'Those were quite impressive fireworks.'

Percy and George were sitting on a slightly burnt sofa, watching how some healers were taking care of the worst injuries and calming down some still hysterical guests. Helping with the latter was Fred Weasley, whose charm had once more come to the rescue as he tried to reassure his friends and colleagues that they were not going to be attacked anytime soon. Not without a little envy, Percy observed that Fred's jokes and witty comments did more to calm down people than the healers' potions.

George smiled tiredly.

'Thanks. To be honest, I never thought we could use our fireworks that way – we might include them in our line of defence products.'

One of Percy's eyebrows arched.

'Defence products?'

'Oh, yeah. We sell hats, gloves and cloaks with Shield Charms on them, Instant Darkness Powder from Peru, Decoy Detonators, etc. You wouldn't believe how many the Ministry itself has already ordered.' George's lips curved at Percy's stunned face. 'What, you thought we only had a jokes shop? What are we, senseless?'

Percy opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

'I think it's a brilliant idea.'

George tilted his head to one side, pensive. 'Funny, but I'm actually glad to hear you say it. I guess it's because I never heard any praise from you before.'

Percy shifted, uncomfortable, but there was no malice in George's voice.

'I was a little stuck-up back then.'

George nodded knowingly. 'And we were kind of a pain in the ass.' He let out a chuckle. 'You know what's funny?'

Percy frowned. 'Not really. Remember that I was always slow to get the jokes. What's funny?'

'That there were times we sort of envied you.'

Percy gaped, astonished.

'You've got to be kidding me!'

'No, really. I mean, most of the time we didn't, but sometimes, it really got to us how you seemed to do everything right and our parents swooned over you. It's annoying to be constantly compared to Perfection, y'know.'

It took Percy some time to realise his brother was talking seriously.

'C'mon, if you loved to do things wrong and unnerve Mum!'

'Well… yeah,' George admitted, smirking. 'But that doesn't mean that there were times – rare and far between, of course – that we'd have liked not to be the pair that only gave trouble and headaches. Just for once, we wanted to be the ones Mum and Dad felt proud of. Mad, isn't it?'

'No, I don't think it's mad,' Percy said slowly, once he'd recovered from the initial shock. 'Everyone craves for what you cannot have… For instance, even though I disapproved most of the things you did, there were times I wished I could've been so carefree, there were times I wished I could be so funny and relaxed.'

George raised an eyebrow in disbelief. 'Perfect Percy, feeling envious of Troublesome Twins?'

Percy bit his lower lip. Although he hadn't wanted to admit it for a long while, he'd actually felt envious of the twins. He'd tried to hide it, behind his perfect marks and behaviour, but deep down he would have liked to switch places, just for one day, and know what it felt like not to worry. He wondered how he could explain it to George… then he decided that plain truth would be enough.

'I envied your carelessness, and also your popularity. It's not like I wanted to be the King of the Ball – never liked crowds that much – but everyone seemed to listen to what you got to say, even though if it was stupid. But, above everything else –' Percy sighed. 'Above everything else, I envied the bond between you.'

George flinched, clearly surprised at his words. He stared at him and Percy held his gaze until dawning comprehension shone in his brother's eyes.

'You must've felt terrible lonely.'

Percy sighed and averted his eyes, fixing his gaze on a worried-looking healer instead. George, for once showing he had some tact, said nothing else. They sat in silence for a long while, until all the seriously injured people had been taken away to St. Mungo's. Fortunately, Laoise wasn't among them: she'd just been knocked out but she'd come around eventually. Percy thought he should go and check on her and Naoise – but that would have to be later. Now… now he just couldn't leave.

'You know, being twins isn't so great – not all the time, at least.'

George's soft voice pulled Percy out of his reverie.

'What do you mean?'

His young brother sighed. 'It's just… It's just that there are times that you fell like you're no longer an individual, you're no longer George Weasley… you are "Fred and George Weasley", nothing else… and did you notice how Fred's name always seems to come up first?'

Percy was definitely beffuddled.

'Is that a rethorical question?'

'No… well, I don't know.' He shrugged. 'Fred just seems to drag more attention than I do, and sometimes I feel like he casts a long shadow over me… Or perhaps it's just my imagination, I don't know. It's just a little tiresome, that's it.'

Percy looked at his brother, surprised beyond words. He'd never pictured that Fred and George's (or George and Fred's, why not?) relationship was anything but perfect. Sure, they fought every now and then, but usually they just seemed to complement each other. Percy would have never thought that George felt like his brother outshone him… and he would've never imagined that he would be the person George would choose to confide in. Percy couldn't help to wonder whether he really knew his brothers at all, and whether the idealized memories he had, in which his siblings were tight close whereas he was the only one left alone, hadn't been mere illusions.

'Don't tell Fred, okey?' George hastened to add. 'I don't want to upset him or anything.'

Percy assured at once he would tell no living soul, and once more he was surprised at the level of trust George showed towards him, after all what had happened between them. Now he came to think of it, Percy had never felt so close to George like in that very moment.

'I don't know if it matters to you,' he said softly, 'but I don't see you as Fred's shadow. I think you shine quite brightly on your own.'

George smirked, but Percy could tell he was pleased.

'How poetic.'

'Yeah, well, I'm an artist now. Musician and all.'

George laughed. 'Yeah, sure.'

There was a silence, again, but this time it wasn't awkward. After a moment, Percy put up enough courage to say what had been swirling in his mind for quite a while now.

'You've grown up.' George shot him a quizzical look and Percy saw he had to explain himself better. 'I mean, you're mature and… well, grown-ups. I didn't expect you to see you two like this.'

George seemed amused. 'You expected us to be children forever?'

He shrugged. 'I guess I thought you two would always be inmature, I'd have to perpetually lecture you, Ginny and Ron would always be the babies and Bill and Charlie would protect us all. But I guess that everything's changed now.'

His brother sighed. 'I guess.' He looked at Percy, thoughtful.

'You've grown up too, Perce. You've grown up too.'


	3. Part Three: Ron and Ginny 1

**Author's Notes: **Okay, I know, I know. I assure you I'm ashamed of the way I've neglected this fic but see, I have my reasons. In February, I had happily written the first part of this chapter (which is what you'll be reading now, and no, I don't know by when I'll finish the second part), but then my mum broke herself four ribs and things at home got a lil' chaotic (don't worry, she's fine and going to the gym again). Then holidays came to an end, and I had to move back home ('cause, in my family, every time we travel it seems we're moving out given the amount of stuff we take with us). And then I started university and I had little time for anything else.

But I guess the main reason was that I had sorta writer's block with this fic, I'm afraid that for a long while I just lost inspiration, so I abandoned it. But then I started feeling guilty, given all the wonderful reviews you left me and for which I'm very, very thankful, so I decided that I'd publish this chapter in two parts, so here's the first one. As my exams are coming, I'm not sure when I'll be able to upload the second part.

Until then, see you!

* * *

**Part Three: Ron and Ginny - First Episode**

Harry had always found Professor Rosemberg strange, even by Hogwarts Defence Against Dark Arts teachers standars. He wasn't the only one: there were all kind of rumours about her flying around school, such as she'd never attended to a magic school and had learnt all she knew on her own, that she worshipped some arcane goddess, that she could speak Parsel, that she could read minds, that she was able to perform wandless magic...

Harry didn't know about her Parsel or Legilimency abilities, but he could assure anyone that might be interested that Professor Willow Rosemberg did not need a wand to perform magic... some quite impressive magic.

'Harry, are you okey?'

Harry looked up at Lupin's concerned face and nodded. The man turned to ask the same to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Hermione had a small cut on her forehead, Ginny had bumped her arm and Ron's face was a pale shade of green, but on the whole they were fine. Actually, if they were anything like Harry, probably they were more shocked at the sight of pure energy bursting from Rosemberg's fingers than scared because of the creatures that had attacked them.

'Willow, can you stand up?'

Rosemberg, whose hair had turned back to red, nodded and rose to her feet with some difficulty.

'Yes, I'm fine, thanks. So,' she gave Lupin a dubious look, 'what should we do now?'

Lupin seemed to ponder in the question.

'That attack was hardly a coincidence, we should probably report it – but first, we should find a safe place for them.'

He shot the four teenagers a quick glance before looking back a Rosemberg, who seemed thoughtful.

'We could go with you,' Harry suggested. Lupin raised his eyebrows.

'No offense, Harry, but I'd feel calmer if I knew you were somewhere safe. And I seriously doubt that Dumbledore, who asked us to escort you all to the Order's Headquarters, would be pleased if we let you tag along while vampires and demons attack us.'

Rosemberg's head jerked up, her eyes suddenly gleaming.

'That's it! I know where we can take them as we solve this.'

Harry and Ron exchanged a glum glance. And they had had the perfect chance to see something really interesting...

---

'Wasn't it supposed to be a single Slayer in each generation?'

Rosemberg turn to look over her shoulder at Hermione, as they walked quickly down London's streets.

'Well, yes, that was until last year. Now all the Potentials – those are the girls that had the inner potential to become a Slayer – can be activated as Slayers without the death of their predecessor. As the Watcher's Council was destroyed – it's a long story – now most Slayers are trained at a special school... right here.'

Harry thought that, for being a school, it was quite a grim building. It was a rectangular concrete block, where the grey paint had started to peel off the walls and the door was covered in old graffittis.

'It looks better in the inside,' Lupin said, as if he had read Harry's mind. He turned to look at him, surprised.

'You've been here before?'

'Oh, yes, on Dumbledore's orders. We've worked together in the past.'

Before Harry could interrogate him any further, though, Rosemberg had turned the knob and held the door open for them to pass. Bracing themselves for the unexpected, the four teenagers walked in.

Certainly, the Slayers' School looked much more cheerful and comfortable on the inside. Bright shades coloured the walls, from which several posters of rock bands and pictures of peaceful-looking landscapes hung hazzardly. Harry reckoned that whoever that had put up the decorations hadn't been thinking about harmony and esthetics; despite this, the effect wasn't unpleasant at all. Actually, it looked quite cozy.

As Harry was examining their surroundings, a thin girl with a pallid face and a mousy nose approached them, blinking.

'Excuse me, ma'am,' she talked to Rosemberg, although she kept studying the others with ill-concealed curiosity, 'but which is your business here?'

It became clear at once that visitors were not an everyday thing at this school. Rosemberg, though, didn't look taken aback at all.

'I wish to speak to Mr. Giles or Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, please.' At the blank expression on the girl's face, she added: 'Tell them that Willow's looking for them.'

At this words, the girl's face suffered a sudden transformation. The glint of distrust in her eyes vanished at once to be replaced with a gleam of surprise and awe. Her jaw fell open, letting them all see a bit of spinach stuck in her teeth.

'You're Willow Rosemberg? _The_ Willow Rosemberg?'

Professor Rosemberg looked somewhat thrown off-balance. 'Er, yeah, I guess I am.'

The girl's eyes grew as wide as saucers. 'Oh, my gosh, oh my gosh,' she exclaimed, jumping up and down. Harry exchanged a quick glance with Hermione, but for once his friend looked as clueless as he was. 'You're like, a _legend_ here. We've all heard about you, what you did...' The girl stopped jumping long enough to offer Rosemberg her hand. 'I'm Maxine, by the way, but everybody calls me Max. Oh, the girls won't believe me when I tell them I've met you!'

Still looking utterly perplexed, Rosemberg shook her hand.

'Um, nice to meet you, Maxine... er, Max.'

Max beamed but then her face fell.

'Oh, no, I forgot!' From her face, it was evident that some Earth-shaking tragedy had taken place. 'Mr. Giles and Mr. Wyndam-Pryce aren't here, they've gone downtown for some scrolls, I think.'

Although she didn't look as apalled as Max, it became evident that this was an incovenience for Rosemberg.

'Don't you know when they're coming back?'

Max's brow furrowed in concentration. 'In a couple of hours, I heard.' Her face lightened up. 'Faith's here, though. I could go and get her.'

Rosemberg slapped her forehead. 'Of course, Faith! Yeah, please go and get her, Max.'

With one last grin, the girl hurried away. Lupin turned to Rosemberg, his lips curving.

'It would seem like you're quite a celebrity around here.'

'Yeah...' Rosemberg replied, looking non-plussed.

_So Hogwarts' students aren't the only ones who gossip about Rosemberg_, Harry thought. He noted that Ginny and Ron were looking at their teacher with renewed interest, whereas Hermione had an awed look in her eyes, but Hermione had felt fascinated by Rosemberg from day one. Ron reckoned she even liked her more than McGonagall and Vector put together, and that was saying a lot.

'This is your area of expertise, Willow. What do you think those demons were?'

Professor Rosemberg pondered in Lupin's question. Both Ron and Hermione turned to look at Hermione, hoping that she might have a clue of what was going on as she always seemed to know everything, but soon it became evident that there were no books about demons at Hogwarts library.

'If I remember them well, they looked like M'Fashnik demons – they are mercenaries and work for whomever that could promise them a good amount of money, so that doesn't narrow much the possible identity of our attacker.' Rosemberg frowned. 'However, those symbols on their chests... I've never seen them before. They looked like the symbol of a clan, or perhaps...'

What Rosemberg thought about the symbols, though, was never known. In that precise moment, a feminine voice was heard.

'Willow, about damned time you showed up, girl.'

Harry turned to the sound of the voice and had to suppress a gasp. Ron, on the other hand, not only gasped but also let his jaw fell open. At this, Hermione frowned, whereas Ginny's eyes just widened a little.

The woman standing in front of them was the type of person that was not only accostumed to getting this sort of reactions, but also enjoyed them deeply judging from the mischievous grin that curved her full lips and the even more mischievous glint in her eyes. She must have been about Rosemberg's age, although she could't have looked more different from their techer's shy manners and earthy-coloured robes, with her curves outlined by tight denim trousers and a black top that showed much more cleaveage than either Harry or Ron had ever seen up this close.

Rosemberg smiled, apparently unaware of the reactions her friend provoked.

'Nice to see you again, Faith. Guys, this is Faith, she's the Slayer in charge here – Faith, this is Remus Lupin, a colleague, and these are some of my students.'

Faith shamelessly checked out Lupin, who offered his hand, which she hastened to shake, and then shot a curious glance at them.

'So, how's Lil' Miss Rosemberg as a teacher? Is she the tight-up type or...?'

'Faith, I rather you didn't ask them that in front of me,' Rosemberg hastened to intervene, but her lips curved. Faith raised her hands in defeat.

'Okey, okey. Guess you didn't come all the way down here just to chit-chat an' have a cuppa, did you?'

Rosemberg shook her head. 'Nope. See, we were trying to escort them,' she gave a small nod towards the four teenagers 'back to our Hedquarters, when these demons attacked us...'

Faith listened to Rosemberg's description of that afternoon's events, all her playful stance gone. Once Rosemberg was finished, there was a frown on her face.

'Sounds like a job for the Geek – I mean, Andrew – but he's busy translating some Armaggedon prophecy, or like G-man's or Wes' line of work, but they're both out –'

'Yeah, that Maxine girl told me – by the way, what on earth have you lot been telling the girls about me? She acted as though I was some rock-star or something.'

At these words, Faith grinned devilishly.

'We've told them nothin', 'cept that you were the one who did the mojo that ended with the Chosen One crap and gave them all their kicking-butt powers... but, apart from that, nothing.'

Ginny and Ron looked impressed, whereas Hermione turned to Rosemberg, her eyes as round as Bludgers.

'You did the spell that unleashed the Slayer power so all the Potentials could be Slayers? That's incredibly advanced magic!'

Rosemberg smiled at her favourite student. 'Thanks, Hermione.'

Faith raised an eyebrow. 'Seems to me like you've got a fan.'

Rosemberg ignored the comment. 'So, given you're the woman-in-charge here, commander in chief and all that – can you lend us a hand?'

Faith smirked. 'Sure. You know what's the best thing of being commander in chief? I get to boss everyone around, just look.'

As if to illustrate her prior statement, she turned her head towards the stairs behind her and called at top of her lungs.

'Perce, get your ass here tight now!'

Her voice echoed across the hall, and within seconds came the muffled reply from somewhere upstairs.

'Coming, Faith!'

Rosemberg raised her eyebrows. 'Impressive.'

'Yeah, isn't it? That's what real power feels like...'

And sure enough, it took no time for 'Perce' to show up. He was a lanky, tall man, wearing a denim jacket, a half-buttoned dark shirt and worn-out camouflage trousers. In his arms, he was carrying a heavy pile of books and, for some reason, a crossbow. Harry guessed he was in his late teens or early twenties but, as his face was half-hidden by a messy curtain of dark red hair, it was hard to tell.

''Bout time, Perce,' Faith said, although she sounded more playful than annoyed. 'Look, this is a friend of mine, Willow Rosemberg and a colleague of hers, Lupin –'

The man nodded as Rosemberg smiled and muttered a 'nice to meet you', whereas Lupin, on the other hand, simply said:

'Hello, Percy.'

Something in the familiar tone used by Lupin told Harry they'd seen each other before and that alone should've been enough to rise an alarm in his brain, but it didn't. However, when Faith waved a hand in their direction, introducing them as 'Willow's students' and he saw the man stiffening, he realised there was something off. He wasn't the only one: Hermione frowned, Ron's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his face and Ginny covered her mouth with her hand. At first, Harry could not place why the face behind dark red hair looked so familiar and yet so foreign to him until Ginny gasped:

'_Percy?_'

To Harry's astonishment, he saw Ginny was right and this was indeed Percy Weasley, although it was no wonder he hadn't recognised him at first, given his informal attire and the lack of glasses and freckles, not to mention that this was pretty much the last place on the face of earth where he would have expected to find him.

Faith frowned, her curiosity piqued.

'You know each other?'

'Well,' Percy said, shrugging, 'as a matter of fact, they happen to be my siblings – the red-haired ones, that is.'

Rosemberg glanced Ginny and Ron, then glanced back at Percy. 'There's some family resemblance,' she commented, fortunately not noticing Ginny's faint snort and Ron's glare.

'What the hell are _you_ doing here?'

Ron's snapping question was received by a blank expression on Percy's face.

'I work here, Ron.'

Ginny gaped at him in disbelief. 'You _work_ here?'

This time, it was Faith who replied.

'Yeah, girl, that's what's we Americans call it when you do somethin' and get paid for it – don't give me that look, Perce, we're gonna pay you... eventually.' Before anyone else could comment on that, she went on: 'Sorry guys to break the Kodak moment, but some demons attacked them and you're the only one that can help with research, Perce. You'll have time to catch up later – I need you to get Wes' demon books now.'

In Harry's opinion, Percy looked quite eager to get as far from his siblings as possible. Before he could make a run of it, though, Rosemberg said:

'Faith, if it's not a problem for you, could they stay here while we solve this?'

The dark-haired woman shrugged. 'Sure. Hey, you,' she shouted at a girl with a colourful schoolbag that was walking by. 'C'mere!'

The girl, who must've been about fourteen years old, walked towards them, intrigued.

'You got a lesson right now?'

The girl shook her head, making her long pendants clink.

'Nope, I gotta a free period.' Then she spotted Percy and a wide grin curved her lips. 'Oh, hi, Percy.'

Percy stared blankly at her. 'Hi, er... Chiara?'

The girl beamed, apparently thrilled that Percy had managed to remember her name. Faith rolled her eyes.

'Chiara, you're gonna give these four the tour – show them the school, take them to the cafeteria, whatever – while we sort some things out, okey?'

With her eyes still fixed on Percy, who looked rather uncomfortable by now, she nodded.

'Sure.' She finally took her gaze off Percy long enough to look at them and say, with the air of an experimented tourist guide: 'Hi there. If you may, c'me with me, this way...'

With one last look of incredulity at Percy, Ginny was the first one to follow Chiara, whereas Ron had to be nudged by Hermione to react. Harry was the last one to move, and probably that was the reason he managed to hear Faith's distant voice:

'Geez. The thing with an all-girls school is that they jump on the first guy they find, don't they, Perce?'

Harry would have liked to see Percy's look at those words, but Chiara made them turn a corner and the adults were out of sight.

---

'So, you're a Slayer?'

Chiara nodded, obviously quite proud of that fact.

'That's right: I'm Chiara Valenti, currently the youngest Slayer in the school. So, who are you?'

'I'm Hermione Granger, this is Harry Potter-' The name naturally had no effect whatsoever on the Muggle girl '– and these are Ginny and Ron Weasley.'

Chiara stopped dead on her tracks and spun round so fast she nearly knocked Hermione over.

'Weasley? As in Percy Weasley?'

It became evident that giving their full names had been a mistake.

'Are you related...? Of course you are,' she exclaimed. 'You've got the same hair... Are you siblings, or cousins...?'

'Siblings.'

Something in Ginny's cutting reply should have warned Chiara that this was not a subject to pursue – but apparently tact didn't come with the Slayer package.

'Ooooh, really? I heard once that Percy came from a big family... It must be great for you, having such a cool brother as Percy, huh?'

Harry froze, Hermione flinched, Ron's jaw fell open once more, whereas Ginny only managed to produce a faint whisper:

'Cool. Percy.'

Chiara Valenti was most definitely not a perceptive girl.

'He is cool, isn't he? He plays the guitar like, really, really well. Handsome, too. Too bad he's got a girlfriend –' at this, Ron gasped and Ginny snorted, earning them both to be elbowed by Hermione '- And he's a very powerful wizard, Giles says so, and if Giles says it...' She tilted her head to one side, eyeing them. 'You're wizards too, aren't you?'

Before any of them could answer, Chiara went on: 'It must be great, learn jinxes and all, almost as good as being a Slayer, isn't it?' She started to walk again in long strides, which didn't slow down her tongue at all. 'Sometimes it's even better, you know? Like that time we had that plague, that all kinds of monsters and demons attacked us at the same time, and Percy just had to go and flicker his wand and they went like, 'poof!', and vanished, and back then the other wizard hadn't come yet to lend him a hand...' Chiara ran a hand through her hair, thoughtfully. 'Although afterwards I heard Percy explaining to Faith that they weren't real demons – I mean, they were demons, but they were all like the same kind of demons, but they changed their form, and took the shape of what you feared the most, you know? I think they were called boogies or...'

'Boggarts,' Hermione corrected. 'They're called boggarts.'

Chiara shrugged. 'Yeah, well, those.'

'But it's not hard at all to beat a damned boggart,' Ron, who'd finally seemed to have found his voice, exclaimed. 'We learnt to do so at thirteen, and it's the stupidest thing in the world.'

Chiara stopped once more and turned to face Ron, her eyebrows arched and her mouth turned into a thin, tight line. Harry wondered whether she was mad because Ron was underestimating her idol or because as a Slayer she was used to a little more respect in spite of her young age.

'Well, it can be "the stupidest things in the world" if your worst fear is something dumb like a rat or a spider, but I assure you that most Slayers don't scare that easily, and I doubt a thirteen-year-old kid would have faced even one of those demons without wetting his pants.'

She turned her head so her long dark hair whipped Ron across his face and continued walking, her nose up in the air. The comment about the spider naturally shut Ron up, but Harry would have liked to give this stuck-up fourteen-year-old girl a piece of his own mind about facing monsters and dangers at a young age. Ginny, who was clenching her fists, looked like was thinking along the same lines but Hermione, who was an expert in sensing danger and averting it, hastened to say:

'So, which are the kind of things that are taught at this school? I mean, surely you learn how to fight, but are there other subjects as well? And what about those girls that haven't finished secondary school? Do they continue their education?'

Chiara put a strand of her behind her ear, looking calm now. 'Well, yeah. See, in the mornings we go to a normal secondary school, you know, with civilians-'

'Civilians?'

'Yeah, you know, normal people that aren't aware of the existence of demons and such. Then, in the afternoons, we learn to fight and we train – here's one of the training rooms.'

Chiara opened a pair of metallic double doors and they saw a large, rectangular room filled with punching bags, mats, horses, bars, etc, where some girls were excercising, moving with a speed and a strength that looked unnatural in such petite girls. Somewhat incongruently, the walls were painted of shocking pink.

Chiara closed the doors and resumed her path.

'Then we have some Latin lessons, we learn to use different weapons, we learn tactics, we study ancient runes and some demon languages... We're also taught the different uses of certain magical stones and herbs, and we have a First Aid course... Look, here are some of the classrooms.'

For some mysterious reason Harry had never understood, in most schools classrooms were painted in soft, pastel shades, or colours that were supposed to be soothing, like grey or white. The School of Slayers did not follow that logic. Instead, each time Chiara opened a door, Harry felt like he had to cover his eyes: deep red, lime green, bright yellow, orange, lilac, turquoise walls threatened to damage his sight forever. The cafeteria, where they declined Chiara's offer of getting them some drinks, and the library were no exception. Harry wondered how anyone could focus on reading with the electric blue paint of the walls. However, that didn't seem to be a problem for the blonde man in a nearby table, who was reading three dusty volumes at once.

Without any consideration to the poor man's concentration – which given what he already knew about her, didn't come as much as a surprise – Chiara headed towards him, exclaiming:

'Hey, Andrew, guess what?'

The young man started and looked up, dropping a couple of books as he did so.

'Er...' he began, but he clearly didn't have Percy's memory. 'Kyra?'

'Chiara,' she corrected, not looking offended at all.

'Oh, yeah, Chiara,' Andrew said absent-mindedly as he picked up his books. Chiara turned to them.

'See, Andrew works with your brother... they're quite close friends...'

This got Andrew's attention, who jumped to his feet at once.

'Brother...?'

'Oh, yeah, they're Percy's siblings...'

'Percy's siblings? _Here_?'

From the astounded look on his face and the slight stiffening of his muscles, Harry got the impression that there was at least one person there that knew of Percy's problematic relationship with his family. Chiara, of course, didn't notice a thing.

'Yeah, they are...'

'Ron and Ginny,' he finished for her, placing the books on the table carefully and walking towards them. Now he had a better look of him, Harry saw he was rather tall and thin, possibly a couple of years older than Percy. He glanced at Harry and Hermione. 'And you are...?'

'Our friends, Hermione and Harry,' Ginny replied. Andrew gave a small nod.

'Nice to meet you.'

His tone was guarded and he was careful to keep some distance from them, which only managed to increase the current awkwardness of the situation. Chiara, who had as many social skills as Argus Filch, kept smiling.

'Hey, Andrew, I gotta a lesson with Mrs. Vines right now... would you mind hanging out with them for a while?'

Andrew shot a quick glance at the towering pile of books on his table and opened his mouth to reply, but Chiara didn't give him the chance.

'Thanks, Andrew!' She flashed a smile in their direction. 'See you later, guys!'

'See you... never,' Ginny muttered as soon as the young Slayer had mercifully disappeared from sight. Andrew gave her a faint smile.

'Some of the girls can be a little...'

'Full of themselves?'

'Well... yeah,' Andrew admitted. 'I guess it's because of the whole "Chosen Ones to Fight Darkness" stuff, you know. They are lead to believe they're superheroes... which they sort of are. I mean, they have the cool superpowers, the risky mission... After a while most of them calm down... once they realise how close they are of being ripped, beheaded or bitten by a vampire on a daily basis. Until they do, we just put up with them.'

The end of the speech was received by blank stares. Noticing this, Andrew cleared his throat.

'Er... So, you're Percy's siblings.'

'We are,' said Ginny unhelpfully.

'We didn't come here to see him,' Ron hastened to add, apparently determined to establish that fact. Andrew didn't look surprised, which confirmed Harry's earlier suspicions.

'We came here with Willow Rosemberg, one of our teachers,' he informed, thinking that maybe Ron's sudden outburst needed some sort of explanation. 'She's with Faith right now.'

'Oh, Willow's here? Good, I had to ask her something about that translating spell...' He gave them an interested look. 'She must be a great teacher, isn't she? I mean, she's a fascinating woman, with all her knowleadge of Dark Magic... all first hand, of course. There's no place like a Hellmouth to learn all about demonology and magic, is it?'

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance and shrugged. None of them could say they knew what a Hellmouth was like.

'So,' Andrew said, as he bent over the table and started to grab his books, 'if you want, you can come with me to our office – not a very spacious place, but we aren't high- maintenance – or go to the cafeteria, although I must warn you that it's probably full of Slayers-in-training by now.'

Both Harry and Ron shuddered at the thought of facing dozens of Chiaras all at once.

'I think we'll go with you, if you don't mind,' Hermione began and then, as she caught sight of the title of one of the books in Andrew's arms, inquired: 'Is that a Sumerian-Latin Dictionary? I wanted to lay my hand on one of those for ages!'

Not unexpectedly, Andrew looked surprised.

'Indeed? So you are interested in ancient languages?'

'Oh, yes! At Hogwarts, we have this subject, Ancient Runes...'

Ron caught Harry's gaze and rolled his eyes but said nothing. Hermione and Ron had just reconciled after the huge fight over Lavender Brown and Cormac McClaggen, and it would have been rather stupid on Ron's part to risk another fight like that. Especially after the time Hermione had hexed him with the bitting birds.

All the way to Andrew's office, he and Hermione kept talking about obscure subjects as ancient languages and the significance of number seven in arcane magic, whereas Harry, Ron and Ginny were kept as much in the dark as usual. Harry didn't mind not being able to join the conversation, though, as he was having a hard time trying to digest that day's events. First the attack of creatures Harry had never heard of in his life and, most shockingly, neither Hermione nor Ron had; then, the sight of magic just bursting from Rosemberg's fingertips, the discovery of the School of Slayers... and at last, Percy Weasley's transformation.

Harry was still trying to reconcile the image he'd always had of Percy – a neat, stuck-up boy whose clothes were always spotlessly clean and had every hair in its right place – with the haggard-looking man he'd just seen. Which was even more unbelievabable were the circumstances they'd seen him, especially when he compared them with the last time he'd seen him, in Dumbledore's office when the Headmaster had been about to be arrested. Back then, Percy had been more pompous and obsequious than ever before, laughing at Fudge's pathetic jokes and eagerly writing whatever the moron said. Now, though, not only he no longer worked for the Ministry, but he'd also found a job in the most unlikely place. A place that probably wouldn't be respected by most wizards, as it mingled with Muggles and dealt with the obscure, not to mention a place where things tended to be chaotic and where dull, safe paperwork had been replaced by unfathomable dangers. What sort of change could Percy – always the first to play it safe – have undergone to accept working in a place like that?

His mind was still swirling with all those thoughts as Andrew led them through a wing of the building that clearly did not belong to the school. Instead of classrooms or dorms there were offices and storage rooms, the hallways, instead of being decorated with posters and pictures, where obstructed by towering piles of files that they had to carefully avert, and the walls were covered with a greyish paint that had started to peel off.

'Here is where we take care of all business that isn't directly related to the school,' Andrew explained, 'such as potential demoniac threat, major vampire activity and some truly creepy dark magic cults. Oh, no, not that cult,' he added, seeing the looks on their faces. 'We leave everything related to You-Know-Who and his minions to you, guys. We are well-aware of our limitations.'

'You call him You-Know-Who?' Harry inquired, perplexed. After all, Andrew was a Muggle. He hadn't been raised to fear the mention of Voldemort's name.

The man seemed surprised by the question. 'Oh, I just thought that you'd freak out if I said it... the only two wizards that work here do, so...' He shrugged and kept walking, zigzagging through the files. Finally, he came to a halt in front of a door that looked excatly like the others and opened his arms theatrically.

'Ladies and gentlemen, this is... our office.' With a dramatic gesture, he pushed the door open... to reveal a room that was barely bigger than Mr Weasley's own office at the Ministry.

'I know it doesn't look like much, but it is big enough for the three of us now that we've stashed all the files in the other room... besides, we don't spend much time in there. The guys are usually checking the school's safety measures, whereas I have to acompany Giles and Wesley in dangerous missions... 'cause, you know, this isn't just about sitting on your butt all day translating some ancient scroll or another. Unless it is a prophecy of the upcoming Apocalypse... Er...' He hesitated at the blank looks on their faces. 'Well, come on in.'

The office, although it was quite reduced, wasn't altogether uncomfortable. At least, it was bathed in sunlight, which poured from a skylight and the grey walls were covered by posters, photographs and books. There were three desks, so small that they looked like they had just been taken out from a classroom, one of them freakishingly neat, one quite normal, and the last one a complete mess. Ron arched his eyebrows as he pointed at it.

'Guess that one doesn't belong to Percy...' Then, possibly remembering his brother's new looks, he added more seriously. '...right?'

Andrew's lips curved.

'No, Percy and I are the neat ones here. So, er... get yourselves comfortable.' Andrew cast a dubious look around. 'Maybe I could bring more chairs... Oh, there's a coffee machine down the hallway. Do you want some? Before we also had a vending machine – those that if you put a coin gives you candy and Twinkies –' he explained at Ginny's and Ron's perplexed looks 'but it broke down so, no more Twinkies. I know, it's awful. In a shop across the street you can get Mars Bars, but they are just not the same.' Andrew sighed. 'I miss the Twinkies.'

A silence followed these words, as the four of them were too stunned to speak.

'We are fine, thanks' Hermione, the first to recover, reassured him. As if to reinforce her words, she grabbed the closest chair and sat down, starting to examine the books' titles. At this, Ginny shrugged and climbed onto one of the desks, careful to push everything to one side.

'Good' Andrew replied, as he placed his books on the desk opposite Ginny and sat down. 'I just got to finish this stuff and then I'm free.' He started to fidget among his papers, looking for something. A small frown formed on his face. 'Where did I put those notes...?'

'So you're a friend of Percy's? For real?'

Everyone turned to look at Ron, different grades of shock on each face. Andrew seemed non-plussed.

'Er... yeah.'

Ron cast him an incredulous look. 'Percy's never got a friend in his whole life!'

Andrew straightened and eyed Ron as if it were the first time he saw him.

'How interesting.'

His response, detached and even, wasn't what Ron expected. He bit his lip for a moment, then shook his head in disbelief.

'Percy can't have friends, he just can't. He's always been too busy bossing everyone around to bother making friends with anyone.' Harry and Hermione exchanged an alarmed glance as they saw how Ron started to fire up. Harry made a movement towards Ron but his friend, who was finally getting out what he'd been bursting to say since they'd arrived, wasn't going to shut up... Ginny, on the other hand, remained in silence, stubbornly staring at the wall. 'He's not cool or awesome or a hero, he's just a stuck-up git. Can't anyone of you see that?'

Ron fell into silence, panting. His ears had gone red and his eyes were flashing. For a moment, no one dare to move.

At last, Andrew pulled himself to his full height, his hands clenched in fists.

'You know what, Ron? You are unbelievably narrow-minded, and even a Vulcan shows more tact than you do. Geez, Dr. Spock could've been a shrink in comparison to you!' Andrew shook his head, fuming. 'Just because a person isn't particularly sociable it doesn't mean that he is a git or a jerk or a freak or anything, he could just be misunderstood! After all, we live in a society that its based on the exclusion of many just for the empowerment of a few, that guy on TV said it. I think he was a shrink. Well, it doesn't matter. It's beside the point. The point is,' he continued, folding his arms and raising his chin, 'that you can't judge a person just because he isn't popular. Look at the great heroes of all time: Peter Parker, Bruce Brennan, even Superman was unpopular at school, according to Smallville's first season, that is. It could happen to anyone. I bet that even James Bond was a geek in high school.'

Andrew looked thoughtful. 'Well, no, probably not, but that doesn't mean anything. Anyway, just for you to know, your brother's got a lot of friends here and so do I. And now, I'm leaving 'cause I forgot those damned notes at the library so yeah, bye.'

He turned and strode to the door, his head held high and walked through it. Within seconds, he popped his head inside again to add, in a tremulous voice:

'I'll be back.'

With those last words echoing, he was gone.

'So... is he a nutter or what?'

Hermione shook her head. 'Ron, you weren't particularly tactful...'

'Oh, c'mon!' exclaimed Ron. 'I said what everyone was thinking!'

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but, after a second thought, she closed it. Even though she and Ron were friends again after the whole Lavender/McClaggen debacle, their relationship was still edgy and peace between them far too fragile to stand another row. Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance, both relieved that they wouldn't pursue the argument, after the odisea they'd gone through to make their friends reconcile.

'It was quite a shock, though, to see Percy dressed like that' Harry commented, earning a raised eyebrow from Ginny.

'Tell me that. I nearly choked.'

Before anyone could reply, the door swung open, letting a square-shouldered man in. Without looking up once, he headed towards the messiest desk and dropped a pile of books and magazines on it, and took off his coat, scarf and gloves to toss them to the nearest chair. Only then did he catch glimpse of them and realised he was not alone. His eyes widened just a little. At first, there was a surprised look in his eyes, which was soon replaced by a pensive one as he scanned the room. His gaze registered quickly each one of them to finally fix upon Harry.

'Hi. How are you doing?'

Harry gaped, thunderstruck.

'_Oliver?_'

_To be continued..._


	4. Part Three: Ron and Ginny 2

**First of all, many thanks to all of you, both for reviewing and to be so patient with me. I know that my updating has been erratic at best, and I'm afraid it'll keep being so as I still have one exam left, but I'll try to finish writing the last part of this chapter as soon as I can. Once more, thank you people, without your support I wouldn't have gotten this far.**

**WARNING: This is an AU fic, but this chapter contains mild BOOK SIX SPOILERS. Beware.

* * *

Part Three: Ron and Ginny - Side B**

'_Oliver?_'

And right he was, because standing in front of him was none other but the former captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team himself. However, he looked so different from the formidable boy who used to push Harry and his teammates over the edge in each training session that it was no wonder none of them had recognized him at once. For one thing, it was odd to see him in Muggle clothing, which Harry hadn't even seen him wearing during the Quidditch Cup (against all the Ministry's regulations, he'd been wearing a Puddlemere United set of robes) but that wasn't all. Although Oliver had always been a corpulent boy, now he had definitely gained some weight and he no longer stood upright as if he had a broomstick instead of a spine. His shoulders were slumped, his countenance was worn and his eyes were circled by lines of exhaustion that hadn't existed two years and a half ago.

'In the flesh.' There was a somewhat awkward pause, during which everyone kept gaping at Oliver. He cleared his throat.

'So... I guess this isn't a social visit, is it?'

'No' both Ron and Ginny replied at once. Hermione seemed to feel the need to add:

'Professors Lupin and Rosemberg were escorting us to the Order's Headquarters, when we were attacked...'

Dawning comprehension shone on Oliver's face.

'That's why Lupin was here... Oh, and they left you here as they figured out what was going on, right?' Hermione nodded. 'Well, then it's really lucky that we met, 'cause today's supposed to be Percy's shift but I forgot my sketches here, so...'

As soon as he'd said this he seemed to regret it. He shifted uncomfortably and shot Ron and Ginny an uneasy glance – evidently, Andrew wasn't the only one who knew of Percy's family issues.

'You work here as well?' Harry inquired, trying his very best to keep the note of shock out of his voice. He simply couldn't imagine why would Oliver Wood trade a much dreamed Quidditch career for... well, _this_.

Suddenly, though, he remembered something he'd read in the _Prophet_ a while ago... something about an accident Puddlemere United's newest goalkeeper and raising star had suffered... Harry remembered worrying a little about Oliver, but the _Prophet_ said he was alright. Harry frowned. Obviously, the accident had been much more serious than the _Prophet_ had let on.

'Yeah, Percy got me the job.' This time, Wood refrained from looking at Ron and Ginny. 'Not as glamourous as being a Quidditch star, but it has its compensations.'

'Like what?' Ron blurted out, sounding astounded. He shrugged.

'Like knowing that, for the first time in your life, you're doing something useful' he replied mildly. He turned to Harry. 'I heard of you becoming Gryffindor's Captain.' A smile lit up his features... making him look at least five years younger, and much more like the Quidditch-obsessed boy Harry'd known. 'Congratulations!' he exclaimed as he patted Harry's arm with the strength he remebered from their training sessions. 'I knew you had it in you...'

Before Harry could reply, though, the door burst open, hitting against the wall.

'Percy Weasley, don't you dare to hide from me! You promised you'd come with me, so now there's no walking out from this...'

She stopped dead on her tracks as everyone stared at her. It was a tall girl in her late teens or early twenties, who seemed to be all angles and articulations, with short, red hair. As she took in the sight before her, she blinked, confused.

'Er... Percy's not here?'

'Well... no,' Oliver replied, who now seemed to be having a hard time at concealing his amusement. 'I daresay he's not.'

'Oh, damnit!' she exclaimed, her shoulders sinking.

'But you can meet his family,' Oliver said. 'Vi, these are Percy's siblings, Ron and Ginny, and their friends, Harry and Hermione.'

'Oh, hi. Nice to meet you,' Vi, who by now looked quite flustered, said.

'Nice to meet you too,' Hermione replied as Harry gave her a faint nod. Ron, on the other hand, looked sulky and Ginny was eyeing the newcomer with a strange look in her eyes.

'So, you're a Slayer as well?'

Vi started at Ginny's question. 'Yeah, I am...'

'And you're dating my brother, aren't you?'

At these words, Harry winced, Ron's face lost all trace of sulkiness to reflect pure shock instead, and Hermione shot her a horrified look at her bluntness. Ginny remained imperturbable.

On the other hand, Vi and Oliver just stared at her. Slowly, very slowly, they turned their heads to share a glance...

...and burst into hysterical laughter.

'D-Dating y-your br-brother?' Vi was laughing so hard that tears strolled down her cheeks, whereas Oliver was grabbing his ribs and shaking. 'You've got to be kidding me!'

Ginny looked confused. 'But I thought... That Chiara girl mentioned that Percy had a girlfriend and...'

'And you thought it was me,' Vi finished for her, hiccuping, as she burst into laughter again.

'Well... yeah.'

Oliver was the first one to recover. 'Oh, I don't know what tales those wretched Slayers have been telling you, Ginny, but trust me, Vi's _not_ Percy's girlfriend.'

'And what were you looking him for?' Ginny asked Vi suspiciously. 'It didn't seem it had nothing to do with work.'

'Ginny, who cares?' Ron hissed behind her, but she only had eyes for Vi, who had stopped laughing – although an amused twinkle remained in her eyes.

'Oh, _that_,' she said, drying the tears on her face with the back of her hand. 'Well, last week I helped Percy to get something for Naoise, so now he had to help me to get a present for my boyfriend...'

'Who's Naoise?' Ron asked, sounding interested in spite of himself. Vi's eyes twinkled.

'If you open the first drawer, you'd find out.'

'Vi!' Oliver exclaimed, startled. The woman shrugged.

'They are his family, aren't they?'

In the meantime, Ginny had jumped from the desk, circled it and pulled open the first drawer before Hermione could stop her. Ginny's eyes widened just a little as she eyed the framed picture she'd taken out.

'Oh,' she whispered. 'She's not bad.'

Harry peered over her shoulder, ignoring Ron and Hermione, who were both decidedly looking in the opposite direction. He let out a faint gasp.

Harry still remembered Percy's first girlfriend, Ravenclaw's Prefect Penelope Clearwater. She'd had a pretty, although insipid face, carefully curled hair and fair skin untouched by any form of make up. The young woman who winked at him from the picture couldn't have been more different.

The first thing that caught his eye was her unnaturally bright blue hair – not even Tonks could pull off that shade – and the mischievious smile her purple lips formed. Her clothes didn't seem to be what Mrs. Weasley's would've approved, either.

'Pretty, huh?'

Harry started at the sound of Ginny's voice.

'Um, guess so. Not-not my type, though...' he stammered because, although the woman could be called stunning, Harry thought he preferred red to blue... Remembering that Ron was close, though, he hastened to push that thought out of his mind.

'Oh, c'mon,' Ron exclaimed, as he snatched the picture from Ginny's hands. His jaw fell open. 'Bloody hell...'

Pursing her lips in an Aunt Petunia's fashion, Hermione grabbed the picture.

'Honestly...'

However, she gaped too and a frown formed on her face.

'This is Percy's girlfriend? She doesn't look like she's his type...'

Oliver took the picture from Hermione's hands and hastened to put it back in its place.

'His type might have changed.'

'Seems like a lot about Percy has changed,' Ron snorted. Vi scowled.

'What's _that_ supposed to mean?'

When Ron opened his mouth to reply Oliver cut him in.

'Vi, why don't you bring a couple more chairs?'

For a moment it seemed like Vi, whose gaze shot daggers at Ron, was going to refuse. However, Wood had on his face the very same stern look he used on the Weasley twins during Quidditch practices, so after making a noise that sounded like 'hmph!' she left.

A silence followed her departure. Oliver waited for a few seconds before heading towards the door, as he said:

'You should be careful how you talk about Percy. A lot of people like and respect him here.'

'Despite all he has done?'

Oliver closed the door with a harsh push.

'Yes, Ron, despite all he's done. 'Cause, believe it or not, people can make up for the mistakes they make.'

'Make up for his mistakes? He hasn't even come around to apologize!'

'Maybe he hasn't apologized to you yet,' Oliver said evenly, 'but that doesn't mean he hasn't been trying to make ammends with the rest of the family.'

'What do you...?'

'I meant exactly what you heard. And, by the way, Percy isn't the only one here who has messed it up badly... actually, Percy's mistakes pale in comparison to some of the stuff others here have done.'

There was a note of true bitterness in Wood's voice, and Harry suddenly wondered which changes had his old captain undergone. Something in his tone told him that he wasn't just talking about Percy – but before he could give the matter much thought, Vi had returned.

'Here you have.' She passed the chairs over to Oliver 'I gotta go now, somebody's got to watch the newbies.'

Harry got the distinct impression she wanted to avoid staying in the same room as Ron, and Oliver must have sensed this as well as he made no attempt to stop her. Instead, he forced a smile and asked:

'So, how's your Quidditch season coming up?'

-

Later on, they found themselves at the cafeteria, where Andrew joined them. The blonde man didn't look like he'd forgotten his argument with Ron, but choose to ignore the boy, sitting in a corner instead with his books and notes. Hermione, after getting bored of the never-ending chat about Quidditch, went to join him and they talked quietly of unpronounceable things.

As he was imparting some piece of Quidditch-related wisdom, Oliver broke in mid-sentence and soon Harry could see why: Percy and Faith had returned, the first looking exhausted, the second, mildly bored.

'So,' Oliver began, 'what did you find out?'

'Perce, explain,' Faith ordered, sinking down on a bench. In no time she'd grabbed the closest toast and started to put marmalade on it, ignoring everybody else.

With a sigh, Percy sat next to her, but in a blink he was in full lecturing-mode:

'Well, they were indeed M'Fashnik demons. We found out that they were actually hired, not by Death Eaters, but by the owner of a shop in Knockturn Alley – a certain Mr. Borgin. It transpired that one of his warehouses was located nearby the place you were attacked, a warehouse that has been robbed much lately – so he hired the demons to attack anyone magical who walked too close to his belongings.'

'That's completely nuts!' Harry couldn't help to exclaim. Percy smiled tiredly.

'That depends on what you're guarding... and from whom.'

'Where are Professors Rosemberg and Lupin now?' Hermione asked, as Andrew handed Percy a cup of coffee. Faith looked up.

'Reporting the attack to their boss. They'll be back any minute now.'

Glancing at Ron, who was glowering and at Ginny, whose lips were pursed in a rather Mrs. Weasley-esque fashion, Harry thought that the only reason he cared for their teachers' quick return was to prevent a possible and very imminent disaster.

'Harry,' Oliver inquired, resuming their chat as if they had never been interrupted, 'what's Katie's replacement like?'

'Oh, Ginny likes him very much, considering she's snogging him... _in public_.'

Percy choked on his coffee. Ignoring him, Ginny narrowed her eyes as she glared at Ron.

'Oh, shut up, as if you and Lavender didn't...'

'You... you have a boyfriend?'

Ginny raised her chin defiantly.

'Yeah. You've got a problem with that?'

Percy started.

'Oh, no, not at all. Er... congratulations, I guess.'

She stared at him blankly. Ron reddened, opening his mouth to say somtehing nasty, but then Oliver jumped to his feet.

'Well, I have to go. It was nice seeing you all again...'

'Oooh, Oliver's got a date. Is the girl from the coffee shop or...?'

'Geez, Andrew, what are you, five,' Faith sneered and Andrew stuck his tongue out at her when she turned her head. Percy, to Harry's surprise, tried to hide his laughing face in his mug. Oliver ignored them all.

'Harry, I'm sure you'll beat them up fair and square. You were the best player I ever had in my team and you were never reluctant to train hard –' Harry inwardly groaned at the memory of Wood's merciless training sessions – 'so it'll be a piece of cake.'

'Thanks, Oliver.'

'And good luck to you too,' he told Ginny and Ron, who nodded.

'See ya, Oliver.'

'Bye, everybody.'

And with that, he had gone. Harry reflected for a moment in the strangeness of seeing Oliver Wood again, no longer the imposing boy who'd been his captain, but as a worn-out grown-up man. He remembered the day they'd met, when he'd just been a mere first-year terrified at the prospect of getting expelled, and now Harry had his spot in the team... Suddenly, he felt very old.

'So, how old are you anyway?' Faith asked Ginny. 'Fourteen?'

'_Fifteen._'

Faith nodded as she swallowed her last bit of toast and grabbed another one. She smirked and leaned closer to Ginny.

'You know, I did much better things than just making out in public when I was your age...'

'Faith, we all know what a colourful life you have lead, but I rather you didn't give her any ideas...'

Harry looked at Percy, stunned at the lack of pompousness he approached his new boss – sure she was no Barty Crouch, but still. Instead of looking affronted, though, Faith's smirk became more pronounced.

'A lil' touchy, aren't you?'

'For your information,' Ginny said, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, 'I don't need to be protected, I can very well take care of myself.'

Percy backed off instantly. 'Of course you can, I didn't mean to imply... You have every right of dating whomever you like. I'm sure he's a delightful young man...'

'You'll keep saying that when he jumps on your lil' sis' bones?'

Percy glowered at Faith.

'I'm trying to be mature here and not act all Neandertal-like saying how much I'd like to maim the bloke that lays a finger on my sister, thank you very much, Faith.'

Everybody gaped at him, thunderstruck. Apparently unaware of this, Percy continued to drink his coffee.

'Faith! Could you c'mere for a second?'

Harry winced, but let out a relieved sigh when he saw that the girl standing in the doorway wasn't Chiara Valenti. Faith stood up at once.

'Coming.' When she was reaching the door, she turned once more to look at them. 'And all of you, _behave_.'

'When haven't we?' Andrew replied but Faith had already left.

'You didn't need to do that,' Ginny said after a short silence. Percy looked up.

'Do what?'

'Act as if you were concerned for us.'

Harry felt a knot forming in his stomach and he exchanged a glance with Hermione, his worry reflected in her brown eyes. This wasn't going to be pretty...

'Hey!' Andrew exclaimed, his scowl returning.

'It's okey, Andrew, never mind.' Percy turned to Ginny, leaving his mug on the table. When he spoke, his voice was even and low. 'So, you truly believe I do not care for you?'

'You did not show it very much, did you? Oh, _wait_,' Ron's eyes were suddenly alight with a dangerous gleam, 'you did, didn't you? I seem to recall something... Oh, yes, your letter, the one you sent me last year full of brotherly concern...'

'Ron...'

He ignored Hermione.

'A letter in which you had no better idea than insulting my best friend and advise me to turn into Umbridge's lapdog...'

Percy winced, clearly stung by his words. He looked away for a moment, Ron's eyes digging invisible holes in the back of his head, and took a deep breath.

'I am not proud,' he began, still not looking at them, 'of many of the things I did last year, including that letter. When I wrote it, I had just spoken to Umbridge, who had given me a rather scary report of Harry's recent behaviour and who had mentioned in passing how dangerous it could be for you to keep hanging out with him.' He snorted. 'And yes, I was stupid enough to let her words get at me. And to believe all the crap Fudge made up as well, but that's another story.'

He let out a sigh and, to Harry's surprise, he turned to look directly at him.

'I really regret all the hideous things I said about you in that letter. It was false, unfair and uncalled for and I should have known better than to believe such things of you. I know that saying "sorry" doesn't fix things, but if I could take it all back I would.'

Harry's eyes locked with Percy's blue ones. Ron snorted and Hermione nudged him, but Harry didn't break eye-contact. Percy was being sincere, there was no doubt. But his words had cut so deeply. Although Harry hadn't showed it at the time, it had terribly hurt the thought that somebody who knew him as well as Percy did could believe all those things about him...

As an echo that came from very far away, Harry remembered how Sirius had once said that, as soon as Voldemort stopped hiding, all at the Ministry would rush to ask for their forgiveness on their knees, although he wasn't sure he'd grant it himself...

That decided it. There had been so many things he would have liked to tell Sirius, but there was always something that stopped him and he'd put it off for later, until one day he was gone and "later" was no longer a possibility. Harry glanced at Ron, still red with fury: no, Ron couldn't get it. He'd never lost anyone close and didn't know what it felt like. Harry did.

'It's okey, Percy. I forgive you.'

Percy gaped at him for a moment, surprised. Then he smiled, faintly, and he looked many years younger, as if a terrible weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

'Thank you, Harry.'

Hermione smiled and Andrew let out a relieved sigh, whereas Ron looked nothing short of aghast. Harry avoided his gaze: one day, he would understand.

'Well, I don't!' he burst. 'Not after all the things you told Dad and the way you treated Mum, as if they both were filth, just an inconvenience you had to avoid to become Minister of Magic!'

Percy straightened and clenched his jaw. For the first time, he looked like he was losing his patience.

'I'm aware of how unfair I was, Ron, and therefore I apologized to them. They have already forgiven me for what I did to them. Can't you do the same?'

'And what about what you did to us?'

Ginny's low whisper made Harry's hair to stand up. Her face was very pale and her eyes shone strangely.

'You didn't just walk out on Mum and Dad, Percy. You walked out on us. You didn't just say you were ashamed of them: you said you were ashamed of us as well. Oh, sure, you didn't put it into words, but the message was clear all the same. You said you cared, but you abandoned us.' Her voice trembled and Harry's heart clenched at the hurt in her tone. 'You once said you'd take care of me, remember? But you left me behind, and I didn't even get a letter from you in an entire year. You didn't care enough to send me one, did you?'

'Ginny, that's not true...'

'Don't, Percy. Just don't.'

And before anyone could stop her, she had leapt to her feet and bolted for the door, tears rolling down her face. Hermione hastened to follow her.

Percy just stared, his face chalk-white, at the spot Ginny had been sitting just a moment ago. Not even Ron dared to open his mouth. The air around them thickened, Ginny's hurt voice still lingering in their ears.

'Perce, c'mon now!'

They all started and turned to see Faith standing on the doorway, hands on her hips and a grim look on her face.

'Vamp nest, East End. Let's go.'


	5. Part Three: Ron and Ginny 3

**Many thanks to hydraspit, who's beta readed this chapter for me and helped me to improve it. You rock!**

**-**

**Part Three: Ron and Ginny – Third Episode**

The silence was tense. The air around them was charged with anxiety and, as time went by, fear. The only sound was Ginny's trainers against the wooden floor while she paced like a caged animal. Harry's eyes followed her until it made him dizzy and he had to look elsewhere.

Ron had sunken into a chair, pale under his freckles. His countenance was stoic, although Harry noted he was clutching Hermione's hand, his gaze lost in some point mid-air. Hermione looked concerned. Every now and then she caressed Ron's arm, murmuring soothing words of comfort to no avail. Ron remained imperturbable.

Harry closed his eyes. In his own, sad experience everytime things could go wrong, they went worse. This time had been no exception.

When Andrew commented in passing that he'd lost radio signal with the team that was handling the vampire nest, they hadn't paid him any attention. Andrew himself didn't look altogether surprised (_'I keep telling Giles we need buy new transmitters, but does he listen?'_), whereas Professor Rosemberg had merely shrugged. 'Giles was always a technophobe,' she'd said before turning to the four of them. 'You guys ready to go?'

Hermione, after casting a quick glance at the sullen Ron and Ginny, tentatively nodded.

'Well, then let's move if we want to get there before dark. Andrew, would you say goodbye to Faith for us?'

'And please thank her for all the help,' Lupín added. Andrew began some pompous speech about how it had been an honour to be of use for such a noble cause when a desperate cry rose over his voice:

'_Help!_ C'mon, he's bleeding again!'

All of them rushed to the door and froze at the horrid sight before them. The girls that accompanied Percy and Faith to the raid all had several cuts and bruises, some that looked rather nasty. But none of them was in such bad shape as the man Vi and Faith were holding, entirely covered by blood and grey dust. Harry felt a knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. Could that possibly be...?

'Percy?'

Ginny's frightened whisper was engulfed by Faith's commanding tone:

'Girls, go to the hospital wing at once; Andrew, get Wesley's supplies.' As everybody hastened to follow her orders, she looked up and Harry saw a cut that crossed her face. 'Willow, would you...?'

'Of course,' she'd replied but Lupin had already conjured a stretcher. With some difficulty, Vi and Faith placed Percy's body on it. Hermione gasped, a hand covering her mouth and Ron's face turned a pale shade of green. Even Harry felt his stomach twirl at the sight of Percy's misshapen form. Blood was all over his ragged clothes, his left arm was twisted in a strange angle and through his half-open lids they could see he was glassy-eyed.

'What happened to him?' Lupin asked. Vi shook her head.

'Dunno. I think a ton of bricks fell on him, but...'

'Not bricks. Concrete,' Faith corrected and Vi shuddered. Aghast, Harry looked at Percy's face, half of which was covered by bruises. Rosemberg bent over him, murmuring foreign words under her breath. She grimaced.

'Apart from the arm, he's got four broken ribs and there might be some inner injury. I need to take a closer look. Is there somewhere we could take him...?'

'The hospital wing. C'mon, it's this way.'

They followed her to the building's west wing, which had been left out of Chiara's tour. Now Harry could see why: although the rest of the school was cheerful and cozy, the hospital wing looked as grim and foreboding as all Harry had seen, with its endless lines of grey beds and its aesthetic smell.

Andrew approached them, his face contorted by worry.

'Faith, I've gotten all of it. Do you want me to call Oliver or Wesley?'

'No, Willow will handle it. The girls...?'

'I can take care of their injuries,' Lupin offered and Faith gave him a grateful, albeit tense, smile. Then she frowned. 'What're you doin' here?

Ginny put her hands on her hips, raising her chin. 'We want to see what's wrong with Percy...'

Faith stared at her for a moment, then she shouted over her shoulder:

'Girls, get 'em out of here. This ain't for civilians.'

'Wait a...'

'You've heard Faith.'

In the blink of an eye, two girls appeared out of nowhere. The one that had spoken was an Asian, sixteen-year-old girl. The other one, to Harry's shock, was none other but Chiara Valenti.

Ginny hissed through gritted teeth. 'I don't care a shit what she says...'

But Chiara no longer was the overenthusiastic teenaged girl they'd met. For the first time her face was blank, except for the dangerous glint in her eyes that matched Ginny's own. Before any of them could react, she grabbed Ginny by the arm and tossed her out.

'What...?'

She pushed Harry with the same ease she would have pushed a doll, and he fell flat on his back. He raised to his feet only to see the Asian girl drag a struggling Ron and a thunderstruck Hermione out of the hospital wing, right before she slammed the door on their faces.

'That bitch, she'll –'

Harry jumped to grab Ginny from behind.

'Harry, let me go right now!'

'No! C'mon, Ginny, Rosemberg will fix this, okay?'

She broke free from his grasp and gave him a deadly glare. Harry's insides twisted at the blazing fury in her eyes. He braced himself for the blow... that never fell. Instead, she turned on her heels and strolled away, fuming. For a moment, Harry felt utterly miserable, which gained him a sympathetic look from Hermione, but the moment soon passed: they became more concerned by Ron's blank face.

'Ron, he'll be okay,' Hermione said softly. Ron flinched, as though he'd just been pulled out of a reverie.

'I'm not concerned. Not like I care.'

Hermione started. She looked at Harry, desperation showing on her face. Harry merely shook his head. He knew his friend did not mean what he'd said.

He only hoped that Ron would realise it before it was too late.

---

Everything hurt. From the tip of his toes to his forehead, every inch of muscle throbbed in a constant, never ceasing ache. Perched on the edge of his bed, Andrew explained that Willow had managed to fix his broken bones (four ribs and an arm) and refilled his lost blood, but that the damage to his muscles would take longer to heal. Percy faintly asked if he couldn't have anything – given his state, he would have even accepted those horrid Muggle drugs – for the pain. Andrew's eyes widened in surprise.

'But Willow has given you three different potions!'

'Really? It does not feel like it.'

His friend tilted his head to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

'You really scared us, you know. Vi reckons you were this close to... well, you know. Not tell the tale.'

Percy tried to smile, but he feared it came out more of a grimace.

'What can I say? I'm stubborn.'

Andrew forced a smile when they heard a commotion at the door. They exchanged a glance and Andrew turned his head towards the source of agitation. Percy would have liked to do the same, but he feared what might happen if he tried. He'd probably throw up.

'Look, just for a moment, okay?'

'He needs rest.' Vi's stern tone was the same she used on the new Slayers. 'He's lost a lot of blood.'

'And he's gonna need his strength, 'cause this ain't over yet.'

'You'll make him fight after what happened today?'

Percy could almost see Faith raising her eyebrows at Hermione's words.

'Brat, this is a war. Vampires don't wait for anyone.'

'We know what a war is like.' Percy doubted Faith would bat an eyelash at Harry's affronted tone. She would probably gave him an indifferent glance and bluntly ignore him.

'We just want to see him, and I think we have the right to –'

'We? Don't say _we_, you're the one who's dragging me – ouch!'

Percy cringed at Ron's words and avoided Andrew's eyes. He could not have beared to see pity in them.

Vi's tone became, if possibly, even more cutting. 'He needs to not be overexerted. And, if you ask me, _I_ think he's had enough of your ways for one day, missy.'

Percy suspected the reason he'd always been fond of Vi was because of her resemblance to Ginny, both in looks and fiery temper. He'd always wondered what would happen if those two ever collided, never imagining he'd actually live to see it. _Be careful what you wish for..._ Only Merlin knew what could happen with a temper such as theirs.

Despite feeling grateful at Vi for defending him, he realised this would not do.

'Let them come in.'

'What'd you say?'

Percy's whisper was so faint that Andrew had to bent over to hear him.

'If... if they want to, let them come in. Tell Vi and Faith that.'

Andrew hesitated, then stood up and approached the group at the door. Percy could not make out what they were saying, but after a moment of hurried whispering, he could hear Vi's voice raising over the others.

'Fine. But just for a moment, and if you upset him...'

'They won't,' Faith cut in, her tone deadly. This time, there was no reply. Few were bold enough to contradict Faith when she spoke in that tone, no matter how many Dark wizards they might or might not have faced. 'Now, get in there. And make it quick.'

At first, there was an awkward silence as Ron and Ginny regarded him. Percy guessed he looked like crap, because a horrified expression crossed his sister's face, whereas Ron's cool facade wavered, his face blanching. Percy tried to smile reassuringly, failing miserably.

'Don't worry, I've seen worse.'

They merely stared and the silence became even more awkward. At last, Ginny let out a sigh.

'Oh, Percy.' It was remarkable the amount of emotion she managed to imprint those three syllables: concern, anxiety, resignation and a healthy dose of exasperation. 'You're a mess.'

That was by far the understatement of the year, although Percy did not think it wise to point that out. Soon the thought was wiped off his mind when, right before their eyes, Ginny suffered a sudden and terrifying transformation.

'Here, let me clean those for you.'

Before he could protest, she'd pulled out a napkin, drenched it in the metallic jar on his bedside table and proceeded to clean up his wounds, with a gentle touch that was eeriely familiar, not to mention rather uncharacteristic of the fiery-tempered girl. Surprises did not end there: not only did she take care of his wounds, but she also insisted on making him drink some water, rearranged the sheets around him and was busy puffing up his pillow when she asked, in a tone that tried to sound off-handed but not quite:

'So, do you often get in these sort of situations?'

Percy gaped at her, wondering when the hell had she turned into their mother. He exchanged a quick glance with Ron, who merely shrugged as he perched on the bed next to his.

'Well, usually it's not this bad, although there was this time when...well...' As his younger siblings' eyes fixed on him, for once paying him their full attention, Percy found himself torn between the need to put them at ease and the immature urge to show off. Sadly, the latter won. 'Let's say that a Berzen's tentacles leave ugly scars...'

'I got caught by brain tentacles once' Ron commented. 'Here, look' He pulled up his sleeves and Percy could see the nasty marks on his arms. His eyes widened. 'How did you get those, _again_?'

'By summoning some brains in a tank' Ginny intervened. 'A rather stupid thing to do, if you ask me...'

'Hey, a hex had hit my head! Try to think coherently when a Death Eater hexes you!'

Percy's jaw fell open. 'A Death Eater hexed you?'

'Yeah, at the Ministry last June. Blimey, don't you read the Prophet?'

Percy did read the Prophet, which had emphasized The Chosen One's role and barely mentioned his friends' intervention in the whole thing. It had made all sound grand and spectacular, just like Rita Skeeter's articles. In short, he knew nothing.

'What happened?'

Ginny and Ron exchanged one unfathomable glance. After a moment, Ginny described to him their encounter with You-Know-Who's minions. As the tale progressed, Percy found himself torn once more, this time between admiration at his siblings' courage and resourcefulness, his anger at the uselessness of the Ministry's staff – which sadly included himself – and dread at the thought of his little brother and his baby sister facing such horrors. And, of course, the guilt. _You once said you'd take care of me, remember?_

'And you faced all that on your own? Where the hell was the Order? Where the hell were the damned Ministry's safety measures?'

Ron snorted.

'In case you don't remember, your dear Ministry was in denial over the whole "You-Know-Who's back" thing... which included you.'

Percy winced, stung by his brother's cold tone.

'Ron, back off,' hissed Ginny. Percy gave her a grateful glance, feeling a warmth inside he hadn't felt all day. After all what had happened between them, she still defended him.

She still cared.

He nearly smiled.

Smile that would have been wiped off his face by Ron's grim expression. Apparently, not everybody was so forgiving And perhaps, he thought idly, his brother had no reason to be so. _You said you cared, but you abandoned us_.

'He's right, Ginny,' he whispered, his throat constricting at another wave of overwhelming guilt. 'I should have known better, I shouldn't have been so foolish, I shouldn't have believed all that nonsense, I... I should have been there for you.'

Percy felt his eyes tingling and blinked – he would not cry. Percy Weasley did not cry. His eyes might water and his throat hurt with the effort of suppressing a sob, but he did not cry.

He closed his eyes, a soft whisper of foosteps approaching him. He felt the light weight of Ginny's small hand on his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, he saw his sister's face bent over his, showing a warmth and a concern which he'd only seen radiate from his mother's eyes.

'Percy, it's all past. You're here now. That's what matters.'

A sudden realisation hit Percy with the strength of a speeding train: this was no longer his baby sister whom he'd vowed to protect, but a mature young woman, not only capable of taking care of herself but also of forgiving the follies of others. He realised then that she was no longer somebody he should protect, but somebody he could lean on.

'Thank you, Ginny' he replied, his voice hoarse. She smiled – a sweet, caring smile that made her look beautiful. A sudden movement he saw by the corner of his eye made him break eye-contact to glance at Ron, who was shifting uncomfortably. Ginny glanced at him as well, rolled her eyes and looked once more at Percy.

'I'll go to get some more water. Whatever it is... sort it out.'

She squeezed his shoulder gently, picked up the jar and left. Percy's gaze followed her until she disappeared amidst the endless sea of grey beds. He turned his head slowly to avoid further pain and faced Ron who has looking at him intently, as though he were trying to decipher a puzzling enigma.

'So,' Percy said.

'So,' Ron replied in the same colourless tone. 'What happens now?'

'What happens now, Ron? You've got to tell me.'

Ron shifted once more, this time avoiding his gaze. 'I... I don't know,' he said at last. 'I don't know where we're standing anymore.'

'Neither do I,' he admitted. Another silence followed, heavy with unspoken feelings and unvoiced thoughts.

'You fight vampires now.'

Percy raised his eyebrows. 'I do,' he replied, although it hadn't been a question.

Ron nodded absent-mindedly. 'I never saw that coming. I mean, you weren't exactly... Well, you always seemed to prefer boring paperwork and protocol. Never pictured you doing anything risky or daring. Always the one to play it safe.' Ron regarded him, again that intent look on his face. 'You've changed.'

'I guess so.' Percy was having a very hard time reading Ron's expression. He was used either to cheerful or moody Ron, and this new version of his brother, who looked thoughtful and analytical, puzzled him. 'Is there something wrong with that?'

Ron took his time to answer.

'I don't know. It's just... You're no longer the Percy I knew. You don't look like him, you don't sound like him... You just don't remind me of my big brother anymore.'

_Ouch, that hurt. _However, Ron's tone wasn't hurtful nor angered. It was just the stating of a fact. On second thought, he had to admit Ron was right: he was no longer the pompous boy with whom Ron had grown up. After all the stuff he'd gone through, he'd transformed into a whole new person. Whether it was for the better or not remained to be seen.

'Then maybe we could start over,' he suggested. 'Turn the page and make a clean start.'

'Maybe,' Ron replied softly. It wasn't a hell of an encouragement, but at this point of his life he was willing to take whatever was thrown his way.

Silence fell upon them once more, but this one felt lighter, easier. They were not yet quite on the same page but, at some point they seemed to have reached some common ground. For now, it seemed to be good enough.

Ron stretched his legs, which made Percy see for the first time how _long_ his brother had gotten. _He must be as tall as I am now._ It wasn't such a surprising fact as he and Ron had always shared the same build, but for some reason it shocked him. Last time he'd seen him, Percy had been able to look down at him... both literally and figuratively speaking. Now, though, their eyes were at the same level... and maybe, just maybe, _they_ might be at the same level for the first time.

'You've changed, too.'

Ron started. 'Me? Nah, I'm still little Ronniekins.' He grimaced and then shrugged.

Percy smiled.

'No, you're not. You've grown up.'

'Yay for me,' Ron replied, doing a mocking gesture of triumph. 'About time, huh?'

Percy shook his head. 'I didn't mean it like that. It's just... I used to see a little of me in you, you know?'

This time, Ron truly started.

'_What?_'

'Geez, Ron' Percy said, inadvertently imitating Vi's accent, 'try not to look so insulted, please.' He inhaled, trying to organize his ideas. 'It's not like we were alike, nor in temper nor in personality traits... it's just that you stood in the same position I did.'

Ron frowned, confused. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, you were in our shadow... you had to make an extra effort to stand out...'

Ron frowned, shaking his head 'What are you talking about? Mum and Dad were always "Percy said this and Percy said that". You never had to make an effort to stand out. You had the top grades, the Head Boy badge...'

Percy let out a chuckle at his brother's naïvety. 'Of course I had the top grades and the badge: both things that Bill had had before me, just like everything else. Ron, don't you see? The only reason I became so obsessed with my marks was the need to get some of the spotlight for myself. Bill was handsome, cool (,) and an awesome student; Charlie was the legendary Quidditch player, Fred and George were the trouble-makers, you and Ginny were the babies... I was as much in the shadow as you were, if not even more.'

Ron tilted his head to one side, pensive. 'I never saw it like that.'

Percy smiled. 'Of course not. By the time you entered Hogwarts, I'd already gotten my own place whereas you still had to deal with the shadow of five older brothers.' His smile broadened. 'But you overcame that. Look at you: now you're a Prefect and in the Quidditch team...'

'Yeah, 'cause I'm so good at that,' Ron cut in, darkly. 'And it doesn't make much of a difference anyway because you all did it first.'

For a freakish moment, Percy could hear his own voice in Ron's bitter tone. _Guess we're even more alike than I thought._ To Ron, it wasn't enough just to make an accomplishment: he had to do something, anything, that his brothers hadn't mastered first. _Just like me_, he couldn't help thinking.

He didn't point that out as they weren't yet okay enough with each other for Ron to accept such comparison. Instead, he pondered about what he could say to his brother to make him realise his own worth – and then it hit him.

'Maybe Bill and I were Prefects first, and maybe Charlie and the twins played Quidditch first' he began ' but there're some things we've never accomplished.'

Ron's head jerked up. 'What would those be?'

Percy put on a serious expression on his face.

'Well, let me see. For starters, facing a bunch of Death Eaters in your fifth year. Or winning an award for Special Services to the School. Or beating McGonagall's giant chess set. Or defeating a troll in your first year. Well, you get the idea. Silly things like that.'

Ron chuckled and Percy felt a wave of relief. _This is going better._

'Don't you see, Ron? You have something that none of us has, something that will take further than any of us.'

'Really? 'Cause I've never noticed it before.'

For a moment, Percy was surprised at Ron's lack of confidence in himself. Naturally, Percy had been aware of what the success of older brothers could do to a boy's self-esteem, but he'd never suspected it had undermined Ron's to the extent of not being able to see how valuable he was. In a moment of clarity, Percy saw what his duty as Ron's older brother was.

'You've got courage... a courage none of us had when we were your age. And something else – your willingness to do the right thing, no matter what. So does Ginny, but... well, it's a different case.'

Ron nodded: they both knew that Ginny, as the first female Weasley in generations, would have stood out even in the unlikely case she turned into a dull, spiritless girl.

'What I'm trying to say, Ron, is that those things... Those things'll take you far, further than you think. Mark my words: you'll outshine us all.'

Ron's eyes widened at these words. He looked at his brother as if he saw him for the very first time. And perhaps it was so. It was the first time Percy praised Ron entirely on his own accord, without saying something terribly stupid as "I'm glad you're following in my footsteps" sort of thing._ I guess I'm getting better at this... about damned time, by the way._

His words must have gotten to his brother to some level, because the moody look had finally disappeared from his eyes, replaced with something akin to... gratitude, dare he hope?

They sat in a silence that was no longer awkward. On the contrary, Percy felt like they had both finally reached some common ground, as a look of complete understanding – like they'd never shared before – was exchanged. Percy had at last overcame Ron's and his own walls and managed to reach his brother on some level. _Finally._

The moment passed, though, and Ron looked uncomfortable once more.

'Look, Percy, I get that you've changed and you're no longer a git, and I get that everybody else's forgiven you but...' He sighed. 'I don't forgive that easily.' _I kinda noted that._ 'I'm not as mature about this sort of stuff as I wish I were, I'm too used to holding grudges. I... I don't think we can go back to like we used to be.'

At these words, Percy tried to sit up on the bed – which proved to be a bad idea. Letting out a hiss of pain, he fell back to the mattress. Ron stood up, a fleeting look of concern crossing his features.

'Are you OK?'

'Yes... just that I don't think I should be doing that anytime soon.' Ron sank again on the bed and Percy let out a sigh. 'Look, Ron, I don't pretend to go back in time – not only because we can't, but because I don't want to do so. You can't look at me like you used to, and I can't see you as the child that needs constant chastising and advice. We're both too grown up for that. I just thought...' His voice tailed off in mid-sentence. He closed his eyes, trying to gather his confused thoughts, and opened them again. 'I just thought, given we can't go back to our old relationship we could... I don't know, begin a new one. Maybe... maybe with both of us on the same level. What do you reckon?'

Shock, surprise and something akin to awe – or perhaps it was just perplexity – crossed Ron's face in an instant. Then an unreadable mask fell upon his features as he seemed to be pondering on his words. Percy held his breath. Their entire future relationship depended on what Ron said now. If he was willing to give it a try, all the better. If not... well, Percy wouldn't beg, no matter how much it might hurt him to lose his little brother.

At last, Ron let out a sigh.

'Why not? I... I don't promise you all be peachy between us at once but... eventually...'

Percy smiled, as a terrible burden was lifted off his shoulders.

'Eventually is more than good enough, Ron.'

When Ginny came back, she gave them a smile – she'd noticed the now-relaxed atmosphere and realised at once what it meant. She didn't comment on it, opting instead to give Percy some water to drink. While she was at it, she off-handledly inquired:

'So, how long this girl Naoise and you've been dating?'

Percy choked.

'Who told you...? Wait' His eyes narrowed. 'It was Andrew, wasn't he?'

'Actually, it was Vi, but that Chiara girl had had a slip of the tongue before...'

Percy inwardly growled.

'Should've known.'

'So?' Ginny insisted, her hands on her hips. 'How did you meet her?'

'Well,' Percy smiled, 'that's quite an interesting story...'

The three of them immersed in a chat about Naoise, the band, Dean Thomas, the Quidditch season and Lavender Brown, with Percy chuckling at Ginny's caustic comments and Ron's furious blushing.

As his siblings roared with laughter at Percy's retelling of Fred and George's party he realised with a shock that, for once, he didn't feel like an outsider in his own family.

-

**Next in this series (you'll have to wait, though, because I'm kinda busy right now but eventually it'll come):**

**"Life Purpouse"**

**Summary: **There's a time to choose between what's right and what's easy, and that time comes for Percy, Andrew and Oliver when Lorne makes a revelation about their future. Xover with Atvs, part of my 'Percy' series.


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